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In Pursuit Of A Perfect Job


By Kristy Schiller
Aug. 23, 2006

I am officially pond scum. No, really, I am. Or at least that is what I feel like while interviewing, hoping to find a job where I will feel loved, secure and where I will make oodles of money. Ok, fine, I know what you are saying. Those jobs are taken by hookers. Well as much as I look damn fine in a short skirt (dancer legs), I continue to have my parochial girl ethics. Sad, isn’t it?

I am not seeking sympathy (that is a lie) or advice (I already know what it would entail), but more of a shoulder to cry on (my fiancé’s is soaking wet).

I had high hopes to get my college degree after high school. My aspirations were to become an attorney with a minor in psychology. Go Kristy! My dad, who lives in the caveman century, informed me that he would not pay for college. Not that he ‘could not’ but that he ‘would not’. Women didn’t belong in college or working and therefore I had to do it all on my own. There were no grants as he made too much money, nor were there scholarships as I attended a tiny school that wasn’t looked upon as a real school. Instead I worked full time and went full time to community college. I loved it. The smell of chalk, the professors, my straight A’s…I was in heaven. I was certain I would get a fantastic scholarship to a 4 year university in no time. And then my dad had a heart attack. So what you say? My mom was blind and my dad was her only caregiver. I needed my job to pay the bills, but I took a leave of absence from work and quit school. Please don’t think I am seeking a Purple Heart. I did what I knew I had to do. Dad survived and I got a quick life lesson on how to take care of creditors, pay mortgages, schedule oil changes and deal with hospital, surgeons and doctors. After many months of playing housewife, my dad recovered and I was able to go back to school, however my bank account was depleted and there wasn’t any feasible way to go back until I saved money.

At the age of 18 I was taken under the wing of a Vice President of a large corporation and taught everything he could teach me on accounting. I hated it, but I loved my paycheck. The greed that I had for money and the cockiness that I felt for doing so well without a degree lent itself to not going back to school, although with each changing leaf I felt a pull towards college. Ha! Big mistake!

After my divorce I ended up completing my two year degree and started on my third year, but once again real life got in the way, mostly due to lack of funds.

And so I sit here with an Associates Degree, oodles of credits and more life experience, work skills and qualifications that I dare you to find someone as experienced as I am, degreed or not. But…I don’t have that handy dandy paper that says BACHELORS OF ARTS.

My phone interview went marvelous. Frat Boy loved me and offered me the job of Director of Web Research for his father’s Ad Agency. I was ecstatic. GOOD BYE old job. HELLO dream job with more money and more responsibility. I was going to be able to be creative, get to manage and be Nancy Drew of the web. The agency buzzed with creative electricity that I could hardly stand it. This was my break. Right. The phone interview was Thursday and the signed, sealed and delivered meeting was the following Monday morning. As soon as I looked at him…I knew.

Frat Boy: “Kristy, I had a chance to look deeper into your resume and realized that although you exceed the job’s qualifications, you don’t have a 4 year degree. Evvvverrrrybody here has a 4 year degree. Now before you say anything, that doesn’t mean you didn’t get the job.” (yeah right!) Instead I am going to give you an IQ Test, a Psychological Evaluation, an English test and a Math test. I hope you don’t mind.

Me: “Absolutely Not! I would be happy to complete any tests that would make you feel more comfortable with making me a part of your team!” (I realize I am a suck up!)

After several hours of taking the tests (and might I add acing each one), I knew that the lack of degree trumped any test scores, work experience, my “perfect” personality that fit the position and life skills that I had. I held my head low for a day (or two…or three), even crying myself to sleep. I was positive that as soon as I exited the building Frat Boy headed to the shredder with my application material. Did I mention that Frat Boy had five degrees that daddy paid for?

A week later, after I sent an eloquent “Thank You” and a follow up phone call message, I received the “you just don’t fit in with our company, but I wish you the best” email.

I think that what has me most furious is that I let him (and am continuing to let him) make me feel like a worthless gnat. Nah, I am angry with him too.

And so I continue to pursue my perfect job. Maybe I should just buy a lottery ticket. I may have a better chance with that.

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About the author: Kristy Schiller is an HR Specialist within the educational system. She also works as a Spirit Medium and Psychic Detective where she spends her weekends helping in missing persons/murder cases with police departments across the United States. Visit her at www.tangledwishes.com for more information.

Email: Kristy@tangledwishes.com


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