Interesting Work, Looking for Work

Discovering all kinds of opportunities--and limitations

Photo by Ernie Journeys on Unsplash

Looking for work after staying home to raise children, I did not have great expectations for landing a gig right away. I’m on the older side of things, and I have been out of the job market for about twenty years.

And I know that even if places are hiring and the job market is flaming hot, there’s still a lot of competition for what’s available. Even so, it’s been dismaying to come up against my own incompetence and other shortcomings.

For example, I applied for a tutoring position with an educational organization and had an encouraging interview. Following the interview, I had to take a spelling test as well as a test for reading comprehension and reasoning.

For the spelling test I had to listen to an audio of a person saying a word and using it in a sentence, and then I had to write the word on a piece of paper using a pencil. Simple, right? Easy, yes?

No, not really. I don’t write with pencils anymore. Or pens. I write with my thumbs, skipping them over a virtual keyboard on a screen. Or I type on a laptop keyboard. Either way, I am not writing with an implement. Taking the test, I realized that my brain does not really work anymore in the good old analog way.

As a result of this disconnect, I misspelled two words on this test. That I know of. Cacophony and medieval. I could have misspelled more but two was mortifying enough. I bet if I had been able to thumb or type them, I would have spelled them correctly. But neither was an option.

As for the reading and comprehension test, I was equally shocked to discover that none of the reading passages and the questions about them made any sense to me. None, despite having a B.A. in English and a law degree. Needless to say, I was not offered this position.

Photo by Nathália Rosa on Unsplash

I’ve encountered more dispiriting limitations regarding other opportunities. For example, I was asked to interview after I applied to be an inventory auditor. Being an inventory auditory involves walking around eyeballing merchandise in stores or warehouses and inputting codes corresponding to what you see on a device usually clipped to a belt loop on your pants.

This kind of work appealed to me for several reasons. I liked the autonomy it offered. You are sent to a location. You arrive at the location. You are assigned sections. You get to work, counting and coding the inventory into your device, left to right and up and down. Not much oversight — you just do your sections and scoot on out when you are finished. That’s my style.

This job also piqued my curiosity about our human inclinations and habits. I am ever amazed at the variety of stuff in the world. Why do we need crackers shaped like fish? And in twelve flavors and at least four colors? Or toy pandas and elephants and snakes? I don’t know. But I am intrigued and I like to contemplate what our stuff says about us.

I think that I would have also enjoyed mastering the keyboard gadget. I am confident that I could have easily transferred and expanded my thumbing competency to its interface. It would have been nice to notch a new knack.

But despite these attractions I decided not to interview for this position after learning that some locations to which I could be dispatched are warehouses and industrial freezers. As a person who has made the turn onto the back nine of her life, I decided that dodging forklifts and avoiding frostbite were no longer part of my skill set.

I bumped into similar drawbacks for donut maker and public transportation coach driver. Each required being available in the early hours of the morning. No, I thought — as much as I would love working with a deep fryer or driving a big bus, I can’t keep those hours anymore.

But there are other jobs for which I have applied where I remain optimistic. They include cashier, dining room attendant, counter helper, admissions clerk, assistant librarian, and special events crew member, for which applicants were asked what kind of machinery they can drive. I said golf cart. I am not sure that counts. But I think it’s a reasonable shot.

I also feel upbeat about my application for the position of burial clerk for the indigent. This would involve finding next of kin, locating property, and working with local government to cover the cost of burial or cremation, among other duties. Paperwork and phone calls, emails and ads — I can do that.

It doesn’t bother me that the work may be tedious or dull or that it’s associated with death. It’s also indispensable. We’re all going to die someday. We all need someone to take care of the business of our death, even if we have no one or nothing.

Approaching my own obsolescence, I would appreciate, and embrace, feeling useful. Because that’s what looking for a job is all about— finding a use for myself, limitations and all.

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