Right on Time

It's now official-I am one of the 10.4% available and seeking work. Not much else has changed, however. I had a phone interview, followed up with an e-mail expressing my interest in the position, now comes the waiting part.

A good friend put it best for me "You'll go back to work when someone wants you to go to work for them, not when you want to go back to work." I am struck by how simple and straightforward that sounds, but it is also very profound.  I can do the footwork of looking for a job -- take the outplacement workshops, write and revise my resume, send my resume to every job lead that comes my way--and it still is out of my hands whether I get a job today (or not).  A prospective employer will review my resume for my qualifications and salary requirements. then determine whether the job requirements (and the budget) are a good fit. I need to be reminded that there is a Golden Rule: "Those that have the gold make the rules."

So, at this fork in the road, which employer do I really want to work for (and by what rules)? As I have had time to ponder the past layoffs  I've endured, I need to acknowledge that somehow all of my needs were being provided. While still hounded by Doom and Gloom (the fear of losing what I have or not getting what I want). I still had a roof over my head, clothes on my back, and food on the table. Likewise, without gainful employment to occupy my (precious) time, I still had plenty of opportunities to fill my time. When I was first laid off, I remembered taking my oldest niece (then four years old) to the playground. Before I sent her off by herself, I recited three rules "Please and thank you. You cannot always have your way. You have to listen to me." Although initially meant as instructions for a single occasion, those three rules grew with time and experience to become the lessons of life that eventually carried her to a far off place called UC Davis and I knew she would be all right. 

So perhaps I need to be reminded that this time, like the other times, that all of my needs will be provided, as long as I acknowledge who my real Employer is, and I just need to perform the footwork laid before me.

Time Out (Part 2)

I took a time out today because I managed to leave everything in God's hands. I had a follow up appointment the other day with the urologist, and he said that the surgery was a success, and any problems with urinary incontinence could be treated with medication. I also attended a workshop on unemployment benefits, and I found out that I was not the only one who was over 40 years old, professional, and out of a job. Even after crunching the numbers one more time, I was (re)assured that my severance package and unemployment benefits could supplement my wife's salary so that we would have a roof over our heads, clothes on our backs, and food on the table for the time being.

So, just for today, I am basically OK. I have to grudgingly admit that all of my needs, and many of wants, are being satisfied. Still, I catch myself sometimes looking at the glass empty and dwelling on the fact that no one else has called me for an interview after having spent a month applying for every job opening that came my way. That thought is followed with the realization that perhaps dozens of out-of-work technical writers are also applying for the same jobs (and who I to presume I am the most qualified person for each and every position).

Perhaps, after 20 years as a technical writer, it is time for me to move on. You see, I didn't set out after graduating from college to be a technical writer (although journalism majors have few options). I spent a year as a marketing communications writer for a semiconductor company and over six years as a technical editor for computer trade maagzines even before I landed by first technical writing job. Still, I catch myself saying "Been there, done that" all too often when I read job postings, a sure sign that I am becoming complacent (or just plain burned out).

So, I'm taking a time out today because I may have hit that proverbial fork in the road, and I need to figure out what which way to turn.

Settle for Less

I didn't get the job. Oh, I thought the interviews went well enough when it came to the questions about my qualifications (the square pegs of past positions could be easily whittled to fit the round pegs of the job description). Still, the issues of "fit" came down to intangibles such as the unspoken expectations of reading between the lines of the questions that the interviewers asked:

"Could you tell me something about yourself?" could be interpreted as "Are you the kind of person I already have in mind for the position?"

"What do you really want to do?" could be interpreted as "Are you after my job?"

"How would you handle this situation?" could be interpreted as "Tell me how to handle this situation because nothing I did seemed to work."

You see, I had been there before, out of work and trying to second guess the interviewers so that I could convince them (and perhaps myself as well) that I was the perfect candidate for the position. I ended up settling for less money than I was making at my last job, then had an additional 10% reduction that was imposed on all employees as a cost-cutting measure. To make matters worse, on my first day on the job, I discovered that they laid off five writers (and their manager), then decided to replace them with just me (because apparently most of the development work was off-shored to Russia).

So, over six years later, I find myself (again) staring at rows of empty cubicles as the recruiter and I made our way to the conference room where the interviews were to be held, and I had a very bad feeling that my past was about to become my present. But this time, as I read between the lines of the questions that the interviewers asked, I began to ask myself if I was willing to settle for less one more time to quiet those self-centered fears of losing what I have (Doom) or not getting what I want (Gloom).

I prayed about it overnight, and the answer came in an e-mail the following evening with the recruiter telling me that another candidate was considered more suitable. I found myself mildly surprised that I was not disappointed with the outcome, knowing that my fortunes were indeed changing as God did for me what I could not do for myself.

Light at the End of the Tunnel

I got a call for a job interview. Simple as that (well, not counting the weeks spent revising my resume, creating my professional profile, completing my LinkedIn profile, and applying for every job that came my way). I was coming back from my outplacement seminar when I got an alert on my cell phone that someone had left me voicemail. When I finally listened to the message from the recruiter, he simply asked if I was available later this week to talk with the writers and the engineers (and how much money did I want).

It was quite a contrast to my experience sitting with other laid off employees earlier that day, listening to the presenter explaining all of the services that would be available to us to find a job. Many of us simply stared at the slide showing the different stages of grieving the loss of a job (denial, anger, depression, bargaining, and acceptance), while others focused on the inability of the presenter to control the mouse pointer.

Either way, I kind of knew what everyone was going through because I had been there a month ago, but even before I knew it, I was already seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. You see, I managed to get in touch with an old friend I had worked with many years ago (many job titles ago, many managers ago) through LinkedIn. The next thing I know, she sent me a message that she had a friend who knew somebody who needed a tech writer. I responded by sending her my resume, then there was no response for what seemed weeks. It was actually only a few days before the resume ended up in the hands of the hiring manager, and a day or two after that before I was contacted to come in for an interview.

This series of events reminds me of a quote from my favorite author, Robert Heinlein, "Sure the game is rigged, but you can't win if you don't play." Somehow, I'm responsible for the footwork, but I don't have control over the outcome. That I have to leave in the hands of the One who does. I also need to say a prayer for those who were in that conference room with me that afternoon to also have the courage to take a chance and play the game, even if it's rigged.

A Touch of Grace

A close friend asked me the other day whether my attitude has changed because I'm getting older or wiser. After being stumped for an answer, I just replied that I'm more experienced about life (which is probably another way of saying I'm older and wiser). You see, when I was younger, I believed that anything was possible if I just set my mind on it. Less than a year after graduating from college, I convinced myself that my dream job as a technical editor for a trade magazine would make me happy forever (or at least until I retired). But after six years of tight deadlines and endless travel, I convinced myself that I just wanted a 40-hour a week job that had a reasonable commute. I got my wish and I went to work as a technical writer for a startup (for what I thought was going to be happily ever after)--only to bounce around in Silicon Valley for another 20 years trying to stay ahead of endless software release cycles and the (seemingly) never ending layoffs.

Through the best of the boom times and the worst of the bust times, my experiences have taught me that I'm not always going to get my way (which is humbling for me), and even if I do get my way, things never really end up being happily ever after anyway. So, rather than trying to change conditions (like people, places, things, situations, and outcomes) to suit myself, I'm just trying to change myself to suit the conditions as they are--hard as it all may be to accapt.

When I surrender my ego to the grace of God, I am then able to make lemonade from lemons.