Moving, closing, writing, and reading

An update

It's been a few weeks since I last blogged. I flew back to Columbus on September 22 to begin packing my apartment and do all those activities in which one engages to launch that most common and traumatic of life changes: MOVING. 

In time since my last post, I have closed out my apartment lease (and paid a nearly $900 early termination fee), gotten sick, gotten rid of about half (by cubic feet) of my worldly possessions, packed what remained, had my car repaired four times, said my final goodbyes to friends and colleagues, rented and loaded a truck, and moved back to Louisville on October 12.

The four people you meet when you move

I was fortunate to have four key people during all this. First, a friend who was kind enough to keep me mobile during all the car repairs. Next, a strong young man who was willing to earn a little money to help me load my truck; we got 90% of my stuff loaded in less than two hours. 

Third, I have a best friend who flew down late on a Thursday night and was up hours before dawn on Friday to drive my truck back to Louisville with me following in the now-healed car. I was exhausted. I was bruised. I needed to get the moving trauma behind me so I could get to an uncertain future. I wasn't at my best. They say you always hurt the ones you love and I'm ashamed to say that may well describe me. I snapped. I fussed. I yelled. I groused and grumbled. I was just plain bitchy and a good bit of it was aimed unfairly, but squarely, at him. I know there were times I hurt his feelings, but at the same time he seemed to understand and let it roll off him. A simple apology doesn't seem to be sufficient, but I know him and he understands.

Finally, I have the eventually-to-be-ex who is letting me crash at her place. She took care of me this weekend. Fed me. Tried to entertain me. Encouraged me. Described bright, cheery scenarios for my future. She's provided me a safe harbor in which to anchor during the storm. I'm grateful.

They say you never know...

My aforementioned best friend has a well connected boss who has unexpectedly reached out to me to offer his assistance to help me do some networking. This has blown me away. He and I met once briefly at lunch almost a year ago and that he has picked up my falling banner to lead a charge against my unemployment has humbled and heartened me. I feel a sense of hope that I haven't experienced in a long time. They say you never know who is looking out for you or from where your next job may come. Never has this been more true than what I'm experiencing now.

The closing and opening metaphor...and other cliches

So many people have said the same thing to me: "You've closed this chapter and you're ready to open a new one." Others have said, "One door closed, so another will open for you." Seems to be an open and shut case, no? In the grand scheme of things, I know they're right. After all, this isn't my first trip down this road. But, I'm still not ready for the flood of sunshine. I don't know when I will be. I just know it isn't right now.

At the same time, I am relieved that I have folks in my life who give a damn. I have folks who don't know what to say but they reach out and say something anyway. I have folks who put their arms around me and tell me that it is going to be okay. I, of course, know it will be okay, but it is still good to hear it from others. These folks, I think have a more objective perspective than I right now.

So, I am ready to start on that new chapter. I have great ideas. It's going to be a comedy-adventure this time, rather than a horror-scifi. But, as a writer, I can tell you, composing the end of any piece is often the most difficult part of writing. One agonizes over it because it has to be satisfying to the writer and to the reader. I'm still at that point where I've written the final lines, but I haven't turned the page quite yet. I am on the cusp of writing those first new lines, but I'm still not finished trying to take in the last lines I just wrote.

The phone, and other forms of torture

My favorite television series (and I watch very little television) in recent memory is "Downton Abbey." I live to hear the next quip from the Dowager Countess Violet Grantham (Maggie Smith, who can toss off a one-liner better than anyone currently breathing). In one scene, Lady Grantham is using the phone. Apparently, even in the early 1900s, customer service on the phone was not what it could have been and, exasperated, she exclaims, "Is this an instruments of communication or torture?"

I feel like that about phones. I have a cell phone. I am loathe to call it a "smart phone," although it does seem to be smart enough to extract a hefty fee from me every month. It is a necessary evil but, I'd just as soon use it as sparingly as possible. I really dislike talking on the phone.

However, these days, I find myself starting at the darned thing and thinking, "Ring, damn you. RING!"

It must be them

In 1967, Vikki Carr had a hit song called, "It must be him." (Click here for this golden oldie) It was rather about a woman so totally infatuated with a guy that every time the phone rang, she started praying, "Let it please be him, my dear God. It must be him. It must be him!" It never seemed that "he" (whoever he was) ever actually called.

I feel rather like that woman every time my phone rings. After 70+ applications, I think "It must be them, my dear God. It must be them." It rarely is. Recent, it was, though.

The Inquisition

I remain ever convinced that the telephone is a relic invented by the Grand Inquisitor and is part of an ongoing Inquisitio Haereticae Pravitati.

Last week I had a phone interview for one of the jobs I was totally excited about. The thing about phone interviews is that they are largely without context. Except for the interroga...I mean, interview questions, the candidate is left up to doing all the talking and trying to keep the conversation, what little of it there is, going. He/she is rewarded with the occasional "okay," "I see," or guttural emission from the party on the other side of the phone. One imagines the cringes, eye rolling, or head shaking at every answer.

In fact, I don't have to imagine those things. I've been on enough search committees and even chaired quite a few to know what goes on in the room with the interviewer/s. I know they are looking for specific answers, key words and phrases, and a certain lilt to the voice.

My interview started off with the interviewer answering her own questions: "Well, my first question is generally about why you've applied for this job. In your case, I know you just lost yours and you applied trying to replace the one you lost," in so many words. Nothing like finding out that the interviewer assumed you've applied out of sheer desperation. In fact, I would have applied for this job regardless. It was a great job doing good work and supported the community-at-large. It was a great job. Period.

Through the next 30 minutes -- which were likely comprised the quickest half-hour of my life -- I proceeded to answer seven or eight questions to the best of my ability. I was happy with my answers, many of which were met with, "Hmmm." Hanging up, I could tell that the interviewer was not impressed. I felt dejected and depressed. Had I let myself down on the interview, my preparation, throughout my career?

My instincts -- and many articles on job searching -- tell me that an experience like this tells me that we just aren't a good fit for each other. It's like a coffee date where two parties size each other up to see if ingesting solids together is in their future or if it is better to order a single espresso shot and get the hell out of the coffeehouse. Still, even those two Starbucks-crossed lovers upon finding nothing attractive about the other will feel some sense of disappointment, as did I after hanging up from the phone interview.

The online application (a.k.a., "The Rack")

Another form of employment torture I find is the online employment application form. Forward thinking organizations make this a breeze. Upload the resume and cover letter, and receive your email confirmation. Other organizations, however, must have so many CYA folks that their organization must look like a wallpaper store from the waist down. Several application processes have gone like this:

1. Set up an account
2. Upload the resume
3. Proceed to copy and paste everything from the resume into an online form filling in individual  bits of information one piece at a time (e.g. beginning date, ending date, beginning salary, ending salary, etc.)
4. Upload cover letter
5. Answer extensive questionnaire about your qualifications for the job (all covered in the cover letter)
6. Answer the affirmative action form.

Thirty to 45 minutes later, you finally get to hit the submit button and see what happens. About a third of the time, the application goes through. About a third of a time, you find that you've missed a little red asterisk indicating a required field somewhere along the way and you have to go back to find it, and about a third of the time, you get an error message saying, basically, our antiquated system just lost your application, you're screwed, please begin again.

Employment application tracking systems sponsored by Taleo are interesting. You have an opportunity to set up a universal profile with Taleo, which I've done. When you go to a Taleo site, you are frequently (but not universally as a "universal profile" would indicate) invited to sign on using your universal profile. It works about a quarter of the time. I guess that is at least a little progress.

It just seems like to me that really great candidates aren't going to jump through all these hoops. Of course, as it was pointed out to me recently, "beggars cannot be choosers," so I jump through them like a trick pony.

What's next?

What's next?

One of my favorite television programs ever was "The West Wing." In it, the character of President Josiah Bartlett (play by Martin Sheen) was noted for saying "What's next?" when he had put all the effort into a particular subject that he intended to and was ready to move on. I feel very much like that now about the job search and planning for the immediate future. What's next?

I've been in Louisville for a couple of weeks. I left Columbus the day after I learned that my job had been eliminated. Being here has been good. I've stayed busy, not only with the job search, but taking on some projects, visiting with friends and family, and getting some exercise.

This morning, though, it came crashing back to me that it is getting close to deciding on when to return to Columbus. I need to give written notice on my apartment. I haven't seen my mail in two weeks and I'm sure there is correspondence from the university about my separation and COBRA (not that anyone can actually afford COBRA, but it always seems like big thing when they send you the information). I'll need to tend to my wonky car. Ultimately, I will need to sell off some furniture and start packing and getting ready for what's next.

I'm not sure what's next. I'd like to think that I'll get a job right away, but the reality is that it is likely that hundreds of people are applying for the same jobs for which I'm applying and this search is going to take a while. Assuming I'm no closer to finding something by the end of the month (e.g., in TWO weeks) than I am now, I will plan to move back to Louisville sometime in October and set up my base of operations here living again with someone else.

The mooch.

With a loss of a job comes the loss of a good bit of dignity. I cannot afford my own living space. I am lucky in that I can go on the eventually-to-be-ex's health insurance, but we're not sure how much that will cost or what my ability to pay for that will be. I will still have other insurance to pay. In the short term, I will have to rent a truck and get my stuff moved up to Louisville and hope that someone will let me store it in their basement or garage. (Once I get a job, I will get to do this all again when I move to the job location.)

I feel like a mooch. Relying on the kindness of others is not the ideal situation for anyone. I keep picking up projects at the eventually-to-be-ex's home (the place I used to call my home) just so there is some return for the expenses that are about to come, many of which I will be able to pick up only in part, I'm sure. I'm told that I need to let go of the control issues and let my friends and family help me as I have helped them in the past. This is not in my nature. I don't want it to be in my nature. However, if I have an alternative at this point, I am unable to identify it.

The apps keep rolling

Thankfully, I have had no problem finding jobs for which I can apply. I have put out 30+ job applications. I keep believing that eventually one of them will resonate with a hiring manager and I will get that coveted call for a phone (or even an in-person) interview. Thus far, nothing beyond the automated receipt confirmation, though. I did get an email from one organization saying that they planned to review applications this week and another from a kind hiring manager who informed me that my resume didn't go through when I submitted my application. The latter gave be an chance to further plead my case as a candidate, so maybe that was a blessing in disguise. Or, I'm just grasping at straws.

"I used to believe that anything was better than nothing. Now I know that sometimes nothing is better." -- Glenda Jackson

There are a few positions at other state-funded universities elsewhere in Georgia and beyond. I've seen a couple in California and one in Michigan. Those, of course, are two states in worse economic condition than Georgia and the thought if getting myself into a situation of trying to survive budget cuts every semester is worrisome. Still, like a moth to the flame, I inch closer and closer to hitting the submit button on the application system and throwing my hat in the ring. Something is better than nothing, right?

The end of the first week

You never see the one that gets you

On August 29, 2012 (about a week ago) I suddenly, unexpectedly lost my job as Manager of Communications and Social Media at Columbus State University (Columbus, Georgia). Totally didn't see that one coming.

The latest round of state-funded budget cuts by the State of Georgia took another $1.7 million from our already ailing institutional budget. We had heard positions would be cut, but were under the impression they would be vacant positions. As it turns out several vacant and currently filled positions were cut, mine among them.

What to do?

I returned to work the next morning to close hand-off my projects, let my boss know what issues to watch for in the coming days (I had several university-wide projects in the works), dump the files that only I cared about, back up my computer files, and get my one little box of personal items from my desk. A long time ago, I decided that I would never have more personal items in or on my desk than would fit in a Hammermill paper box.

Being that I was in Columbus solely for the job and really didn't have much of a support network there, I decided to come back home to Louisville, Kentucky for a while. I booked a one-way ticket from Atlanta to Louisville for the evening of August 30 and headed out. After a full-body x-ray and a lower-body pat down, I made it to the Southwest Airlines gate to board my flight. Thankfully, we were a full 20 minutes early arriving in Louisville. I emerged from the airport to ponder my situation.

My eventually-to-be-ex picked me up, we had dinner, and I returned to what used to be my home where she still resides. I am grateful to have this safe harbor to tie up in right now.

I'm not sure what it says about me that I felt the need for support right now. I am generally a pretty independent person. I just didn't think I could hand this on my own in the first few days.

Comes the weekend.

On Friday, I spent the day searching for jobs online. Thankfully, I am actually finding positions available for which I am qualified and that are appropriate for someone with more than 20 years experience in marketing communication. I noted all the jobs I found during my brief search and we set off for an afternoon of "let's get Jeff's mind off all this madness."

Saturday, the eventually-to-be-ex had plans with a friend for the day. I am glad to see her going out and doing stuff. It makes my heart glad. I decided to spend Saturday and part of Sunday at one of my best friend's place. Surprisingly, we set off to Lexington, Kentucky where he was set on buying a car to replace his car that had seen its better days. It was another instances, though accidental, of getting my mind off the employment situation and helping a friend who was pretty much nailed to the floor over purchasing this vehicle.

Job Apps and Jazz

Sunday morning, I arose early to pull out the trusty iPad and continue my search. The bestie got up about an hour later to ready himself to go to church. As we chatted, he pulled out his iPad and started streaming WBGO Jazz 88.3 from Newark, New Jersey. He left, letting the music play on, while I sat at his dining room table and started working on job applications. Job applications and jazz. It has become my morning routine now.

Scared to death.

I'll be honest. I am scared to no end about what comes next. My income runs out at the end of September. At that point, if I am careful, I'll have about two months of living expenses left. As closely as I can determine, I'll get a whopping $330 per week (more like $200 per week after taxes) from the State of Georgia's unemployment insurance program. That will last, if I'm lucky for 20 weeks, which will take me after the first of the year. Unless Congress acts before the end of December, there are no extensions available.

My apartment costs me $955/month. God only knows how much COBRA insurance will cost, although I am fortunate in that being still married to the eventually-to-be-ex, I can workout something to go on her insurance, which may be a little less money.

Clearly I will have to move out of my apartment. I will lose my independence and depend on the kindness of others to survive. That is unless I am able to find a job.

The job market is tight, but at least there are openings out there. I'm resigned to the fact that there is better than a 50-50 chance I will have to accept a cut in pay. Thankfully I am, thus far, debt-free. I'm mobile and swift, which may give me an edge in the job market.

But, I'm scared. 

I believe in days ahead.

My favorite band, the Scissor Sisters, had a song on their first big album called "Mary." In the lryics of the song was the line, "I believe in days ahead." I have used that as my mantra now for years. I believe in days ahead. Despite being scared, I really do believe.


The eventually-to-be-ex has a job she loves making medical equipment. She's no stranger to my situation. She lost her job of more than two decades a few years ago. If she can recover from that sort of job loss and find something totally suited to her, then I know there must be hope for me.

She gets up at the ungodly hour of 4 a.m. to get ready for work and is out the door each morning by 5:15. She works a ten-hour shift. I don't see how she does it, but she does and she loves it.

I get up and make a cup of coffee and sit down at the kitchen table with her notebook computer and my iPad. On comes the jazz, in goes the coffee, and away go my fingers on the key board as I search and apply for jobs. Job apps and jazz.

I've done this for at least four hours every morning since I've been here. After which, I try to do something active such as run or do yard work (I have the need to do stuff around the house because I feel like a mooch being here and feel like I want to repay my keep).

The now.

So, that's the now for the present. I've not made my return reservations to Georgia. I'm hoping a miracle will happen. Given the chances of that happening, I'll probably look at returning next week sometime to start selling off some of my furniture and getting the apartment in move-away readiness. My lease expires at the end of December. If I break the lease early, I will owe another month's rent as a penalty. Being this close to the end of the lease, I may try to hang on until it expires. But only time will tell if I will be able to do that.

Stay tuned and let's hope for better news ahead.