The book of Job

I was going to write about Warren Zevon today until I went and took a test for a job I’m up for. I hate the job search process. I hate applying, I hate sending out resumes and writing cover letters, and I hate waiting. I like interviewing. I’ve been spoiled by working so much with temp agencies where I’m approached about a job one day, send my resume out that same day and then starting the job a few days later. This three month or longer application process crap blows.

Today was an office skills test for a lab clerk position with a Flint hospital. Last week I had to go into Human Resources and fill out two seperate, very tedious, applications for two seperate positions. One involved a typing test right on the spot, both involved written exams. I have another one tommorow at 9:45a.m. for a registration clerk position.

As I made my way into the classroom for the test I was struck by two things. First, I was the only guy. Second, there were a lot of freaking people there for the exam. I have two modes when it comes to situations like this. I’m either overwhelmed by the number of people applying for the same position as me and start convincing myself I’ll never get it, or I get nasty and start picking them out one by one guessing at how much better I am than they are. Preying on their physical flaws and perceived mental weaknesses. Neither of these are very flattering attitudes for a potential employee to have, but there you go.

After the test was done, the recruiter told us to wait three weeks for the results to be mailed to us. Three weeks? This was a scantron test. Are they bringing in special trained monkeys from Africa to run the tests through the machine? In the meantime I will be applying for other work but I’ll also be going through the process to become a substitute teacher. In Michigan all you need is 90 credit hours or more in college and to pass a background check. The jobs pay anywhere from $85-$95 a day and school goes well into June around here. I’m already used to getting up very early (well, I was, before the holidays and my extended period of unemployment) so it shouldn’t be a problem.

Times like this just make me glad I trained to be an office assistant. I’m not real good at manual labor or factory work or anything like that but I can type and file and generally wow in an office setting. And I usually make more than factory workers and don’t have to get my hands dirty. Of course I tend to have a year-round flourescent tan too, but that’s the price I pay I guess.