While I search high and low for respectable work in DC, the husband has been looking for a place we can live in relative comfort and safety. The requirements are few: allow dogs, lock from the inside.
Today he found a gem, and one of the DC staffers is willing to check it out for us with his very own eyes. Three cheers for helpful coworkers who are 700 miles closer to our new apartment (be it this one or another one) than we are! Not only does this place have the requirements, but it has our preferred amenities as well: wood floors, washer and dryer, indoor plumbing.
The balancing act has been finding a place we could afford on the husband’s income alone while not signing a lease in the hood only to have me get a job that would allow us to live in the neighborhood we prefer. This apartment is the best of both worlds, although I’m still hoping to have a job.
Which brings me to my next point. The husband signed up for one of those sites that sends job openings to members only. Then he handed me the password and plate of rewarmed pizza and left me alone with the computer.
A dozen applications–including some for Particular Government Agencies, for which the application process is eternal, as we have discovered–later, my butt is numb and I’m wondering if I accidentally applied for one of the writing jobs twice.
Me: Are you KIDDING me?!?!
The husband: What??
Me: Remember when you told Congressman Z’s chief of staff that your wife was looking for DC communications work?
The husband: Yeah, like months ago.
Me: Right. And then I followed up to that so he had my name and resume.
The husband: Ok.
Me: And then one of my work friends contacted one of her friends in that office and also sent my resume.
The husband: Ok.
Me: And then not long after that, Congressman Z’s office contacted a few other mutual friends to say they were desperate for a communications person with ties to this state.
The husband: Ah, yes.
Me: So my work friend and I both sent my resume again, to two different people in that office, including the chief of staff.
The husband: Oh right, and they never got back to you, despite being “desperate.”
Me: That’s them! Guess what?
The husband: What.
Me: The job is posted on this members-only website you turned me loose on.
The husband: When was it posted?
Me: Two days after I last sent my resume to them.
The husband: Maybe they want everyone to go through the orthodox channels.
Me: Maybe I want my foot to go through some unorthodox channels…
Because I am, at this point, desperately seeking, I did apply through the website but I’m seriously unimpressed with the lack of professional courtesy this office has extended. Six different people have given my name and resume to this office, and still I get nothing back. My job skills read like a bulleted version of their requirements paragraph for the position. What gives?
Me: Did you read that strongly worded guest editorial I wrote in my free time today?
The husband: Yes.
Me: I just might send it. OR! I’ll send it to them if they don’t get back to me, as a warning shot. Kind of give them a little taste of what could happen if I commence Operation Scathing Editorial.
The husband: They’d probably send it around to the other Capitol Hill offices and you’d be blacklisted.
Me: I’m on a first-name basis with most of the editors in that district and my ability to write critical reviews of elected officials can be used for good or for evil.
The husband: Please use your maiden name.
The plot thickens.