I’ve been out of work for six months now. It’s not actually as bad as it seems. Two of those months were spent traveling in Asia and I wasn’t really looking for work. And when I got back to the U.S. there was that re-adjustment period and a move to New York , and once I finally got settled in the job search began. 

It’s been going on for three months now. I’ve been through this before. When I graduated from college three years ago, I moved from Colorado to Seattle and began my first real job search. Back then the economy was good and there were daily news reports about how great the market was. The special correspondents told me employers were begging for people to work for them. I’d watch those reports between episodes of "Oprah," where I’d try to find my spirit or wait for Dr. Phil to scare some sense into me. The problem was I didn’t want just any job, I wanted a job that I would really enjoy. Sure there were jobs out there to be had. I had interviewed with a gambling magazine and a company that made the plastic that covered frozen seafood. But in the end I couldn’t focus my efforts on promoting gambling or making sure salmon stayed in an airtight seal for shipping, I had to keep looking for the ideal job. I did find a job eventually. After six weeks I started a temporary position at Amazon.com that led to a permanent position lasting almost three years.

And those first couple years were tough. I’d talk with other recent grads about the transition from school to work and how we weren't sure we were doing the right thing. How we just felt like sitting at home sometimes rather than going out. We called it PGD (Post Graduate Depression), and I think I had a case that lasted longer than normal. Last spring I decided the place I really wanted to be was New York , so I left my job and started traveling with plans to move to New York in the fall. The economy was already suffering at that point, and I knew looking for a job would be tough. But after September 11th things got even more difficult. I debated whether I should still even make the move after everything happened, but in the end New York was still the place I wanted to be. 

Now I watch daytime talk shows and pour over job listings on the Internet and in newspapers, trying hard not to think about all the other people doing the same thing. I know they’re out there, trying to outwit me. I interviewed for one position that had received 280 resumes. I was happy to have just made it to the interview. I’ve broadened my realm of options quite a bit. In the beginning the focus was publishing and communications jobs. Now it’s become a matter of what jobs I won’t take, and that list is dwindling. Now I’ll basically do anything that doesn’t involve seeing blood (I tend to faint at the site of it). To get by I signed up with a temp agency. I worked a sample sale at Christian Dior for five days. There were other temps working alongside me--mostly actors, filmmakers, or writers trying to pay the bills before they get the big break. We wore all black and helped rich people select bright pink python purses or aquamarine zippered shoes. They would drop thousands of dollars without batting an eye while we worked our $10-an-hour post. 

“It’s really a case of the haves and the have-nots,” another temp noted. He had talked with one of the regular Christian Dior employees who helped design stores when she wasn’t helping out with the sample sale. She asked him what he did when he wasn’t doing this and he said, “This is what I do. Really, you’re looking at it.” I’m trying to do all the things I wanted to do when I had a job but no time. I had visions of myself staying home all day to cook along with the Food Channel or write a novel. But day after day of no job and unlimited television can start to wear on you. So I go to the gym (they accept credit cards) and try to limit my television intake. And I remember what a friend said to me when I was looking for a job after graduation. I was convinced I would never find a job and she assured me I would: “Do you know anyone who just never found a job? Who just never worked? That doesn’t happen.” I thought she had a point; but then again, there is a first time for everything. 

Author's Biography

Julie Vick is a a writer, living in Brooklyn, New York.

E-mail Julie at jvickus@yahoo.com

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