My dad has such power over me. I just got off the phone with him. (He’ll probably be reading this at some point.)
I’m not lazy.
He didn’t say I was lazy, but after the phone call, I had an imaginary conversation with him in my head in which he told me I was.
He called me to talk about job-search issues. To check up on me. I’ve sent out my resumé to one place so far. He asked me if I’d sent it to anyplace else, and I said I hadn’t. I flashed back to 16 years old (applying to college) and 25 years old (looking for jobs after law school), feeling guilty and completely incapable and unknowledgeable as a human being. I felt my shoulders tense up as I tried to retreat inside an intangible shell. And he wasn’t even here in person.
I’ve not been as active in the job hunt as I could be. But at my dad’s prompting I just contacted someone at another state agency, whom someone else who works at that agency had told me to contact, about sending them my resumé.
I didn’t feel like arguing with my dad because (1) I never know whether he’s right or not, and (2) I always feel like I’m wrong. (Those two things might not seem to make sense together, but believe me, they do.) And because I didn’t feel like arguing, I essentially clammed up.
Anyway, I might not be lazy, but I don’t know what I am. How about: strongly resistant.
I don’t know if my dad’s right, but I feel completely wrong.
I’m 32 years old and some things never change.
Ah, Jeff; you and I are in the same boat w/dads. Bulletin from almost 37: still no change.
What’s with a Jew having such a protestant work ethic? But seriously, are you applying to jobs that you WANT to work at? Or just ones that you think you’d get hired at?
You’re in a unique situation. Now is one of the few times you DON’T have to rush back into the workplace. Your dad probably wouldn’t want you to hear this, but you actually could NOT work for a bit and figure out your career options. He probably realizes that the urge to slack off and not do anything during this period will probably be quite strong, but I dunno, I don’t really see you as someone who enjoys sitting on their ass doing nothing.
Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out :)
Eh, that sounds like closet talk, says the anonymous commenter. A good response would be something along the lines of “Don’t worry Dad, got it covered, let’s talk about something else,” rather than pass-ag blogging it with the expectation he’ll read it, as though your problem is his problem. Try it, it’s empowering!
Now, if you don’t have anything else to talk about – well, one problem at a time. Likely, job hunting is just a topic he feels more in his element chatting about with his son than other subjects where there’s less common ground. Dads also yearn to feel significant and influential, in some positive way. Much like their sons.
When I heard there’s this whole subculture of lawyer “temps” who can schedule extended vacations and “me time,” meanwhile earning lawyer wages to subsidize the breaks, my reaction was “Damn, if I’d known that, I would’ve tried to go to law school!” (Of course, they tend to call themselves “contract attorneys” and “sole practitioners” rather than “temps.” Lawyers! Whatcha gonna do?) Sure, document review is deadly dull and won’t get you to partner, but the same might be said of civil work.
You might also happen upon a situation you like, and be able to detail why you fit in there and should be hired for a full-time opening. So there, a failsafe backup safety plan for employment. The only real pressures are your career goals (unclear), cash flow, the level of activity you need, and time left between here and the grave — not your Dad.
You like Manhattan, culture, new experiences, daily activity, propositional thinking, diverse reading, and openness, you’ve got a law degree, and you have some drive toward topical (though maybe not novelistic) writing. What sort of wage-earning fulfillment could someone fashion from all that?
Can totally relate. Just had the same conversation with my jewish parents today. With a little raise in their voice I am magically transported back to being 12 again. Also over job stuff. Part of it is they want nothing but the best. They also cant relate because in their day and age you worked for a company for life. THey didnt switch jobs every 5 years. Just know they want you happy and settled. Thats what I keep telling myself. (although at times when i am very frusterated it doesnt seem like that… End of rant.
Hi, Jeff:
I discovered your blog by accident and I’ve been following it now for a few months. I’m surprised by how much I relate to your postings here: we seem to have a lot in common.
I just wanted to post my support for you in this time. Job-hunting is the most stressful and agonizing thing I’ve ever had to do. I hate it, and it’s most out of the fear of the effort — and the rejection — that I’m still in the job that I don’t exactly love. You’re fortunate that you have your boyfriend’s income and your home, so there’s not as much pressure as their might be.
I’ve read enough of your writings here to see that you’re obviously talented and intelligent, and I’m confident you’ll find something. My thoughts are with you.
As it happens, Tuesday was the 20th “anniversary” of the first (and so far, only) time I was laid off. I was out of work for three months. I wasn’t suffering any financial hardship, and in fact ultimately landed a job that paid so much more than the old one that I ended up substantially ahead at the end of the year. But the process of job-hunting was sufficiently painful and humiliating that to this day I feel lingering pangs of depression when the middle of April rolls around. It didn’t help that the layoff coincided with the (scheduled) departure the good friend I was living with. We weren’t (and aren’t) gay, but the loss was nonetheless devastating, as was the transition to living alone for the first time. Believe me, you don’t want to be alone with lots of time on your hands when you’re out of work.
There doesn’t seem to be any way around the humiliation of the job-hunting process, so be prepared for it. It isn’t the inevitable rejection that’s so painful, but the feeling of casting your resumes and cover letters into a black hole because they’re most often just ignored. Most employers consider acknowledging the resumes of those who aren’t Cinderella matches to be a waste of the shareholders’ money, so few bother with it. It got to the point where I actually felt elated when a rejection letter arrived in the mail, because it meant someone actually cared enough to tell me to get lost.
Your situation looks to be quite different– and better– than mine was. You’re in a supportive and loving relationship that happens to include a rent-free apartment. You probably have enough resources to really consider what you’re looking for, and can use the opportunity to improve your life in the long run. For what it’s worth, my current roommate is one of those very strange people who has been happiest when he was out of work. The last time he was laid off, he spent his time taking classes in things he enjoyed, and also learning some new skills that eventually got him a new job. Unemployment need not be a time of penance and suffering. I’m sure you’ll ultimately find something that will be an improvement over what you lost.
Hang in there, Jeff. I’m a retired 60 year old and my 90 year old dad is still working! I’ve finally made peace with that and with him.
You’re smart enough to work through that issue faster than I did. It is possible.
You are right, some things never change. Your dad will always see you not as a peer but as his child no matter how old you get. At least you can talk to your dad. I usually end up fighting with my dad if we talk. I don’t know what your dad does, but it wasn’t easy having the mechanical engineer/mr. fix-it/political anylist/world’s calmest dad we had. Hope it all goes well.