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Posts Tagged ‘Job search’

Dear Former Colleague/Friend:

I say this with all the compassion I can muster:

You need help. Immediately.

I can understand being bitter about a past job experience. My last job wasn’t what I expected, so I got a new one.

I can understand not getting along with or respecting a boss. There’s one former boss I wouldn’t pee on if she were on fire. (Ok, that’s crude, and maybe I would.)

I can understand wishing you could force change to make the place better. It’s depressing to me to think about how great my last place could have been if only they had done some things differently.

What I cannot understand is basically trying to burn the whole place down with people you claim to like and care about inside it.

You know how many publicly pissy posts I have written about a former workplace, colleague or boss? One. And you can’t even tell which workplace or person.

Your vendetta against your former boss has to stop. You need to seek therapy.

It’s not healthy to write post after post about him and your experience.

Or contact our accreditors.

Or our board of trustees.

It’s not healthy for you, and it is actively harming us, the people who still work there. We have to do extra work because of you. You also are hurting our reputation, and that isn’t cool, Friend.

I think you think you are some kind of crusader — speaking for all employees who are all, in your mind, victims. You have a savior complex.

I will not minimize or negate your experience, but yours is not universal. I do not have the same view of my colleague that you do. People on my team have not had the same experience you have. People on HIS team disagree with your characterization.

I’m not going to address your wild email to the board that you have copied and pasted in its entirety where you detail every negative interaction you had with your boss.

You say that you knew that what you had written was “unhinged.”

Accurate.

(And then you complain you didn’t get a response. Would YOU respond to you?)

I’m going to address the other parts of your post that left me stupefied.

You said that executives (including me), “work exactly 8-5” then spend our evenings “drinking expensive wine with expensive people for ‘networking.’”

So when I’m at my desk at 7:30 p.m. trying to catch up on emails I didn’t get to during the day because of all the meetings, I’m actually NOT AT MY DESK but out drinking and networking and have been since 5? When I was at a first-generation student dinner until 8:30 p.m. last night, I should have demanded wine and told them they were fancy? That working all day last Saturday and every night last week was a figment of my imagination? And I guess taking my laptop to work on a big proposal while I was supposed to be on vacation didn’t actually happen. What the FUCK? As my former friend, you have personally witnessed some of the above. What’s wrong with you?

You characterize our board members as being people who “see the literal bottom line from a distance” — people “not in touch with the reality of the working-class … living with the decisions of out-of-touch boards.”

Um. Most of our board members are alumni who work full-time jobs. They also donate their time on several projects throughout the year, working closely with faculty and staff. They donate money to scholarships, faculty awards, staff awards, etc. They aren’t trust-fund babies jetting around with Daddy to China.

You assert that the board and the leadership team — of which I’m a part — operate from a playbook “comprised of ego, power, money and status.”

You have about two years of experience in higher education, and suddenly you are the expert? And this is genuinely what you think of me too?

Fuck. OFF.

I think this David vs. Goliath/The Poors vs. Richie Rich/Sad Little Underdog story sounded good to you, and you just went ham.

Too bad it’s not true.

“It was not the type of thing I ever advise anyone to send.”

Girl. Take your own damn advice.

And again, with the compassion I have left, I implore you to get help to MOVE ON.

Get a GD hobby, honey.

And though I have a modicum of compassion, I have no respect for you. Not now. Please don’t ever ask me for a reference.

Sincerely,
Beth

P.S. I did sleep on it before posting. Only changed a couple of words. Have no regrets. You still feeling good about yours? I hope your former boss sues you for defamation.

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Dear Oregon,

I think we are going to be ok together. I’m feeling optimistic.

It’s probably because the sun is back.

Or the fact that I realized I’ve had nearly two full weeks of social activities, including:

Line dancing with Henry, a friend from college who was passing through.
Karaoke with coworkers and friends old and new.
Games with long-time friends from my Savannah days.
A huge wine-tasting event I was able to attend for free with another coworker.
Line dancing at a new-to-me club in Salem: Silver Spur.

About that club …

It was packed with folks aged 25-35.

Hence, not folks like me. 😂

I enjoyed the people-watching.

But then this happened:

I have thoughts.

  • This is LINE DANCING, not a sporting event. No need for the national anthem. (I would argue that we don’t even need it at sporting events.)
  • This is HOURS into the night. Why play it THEN?
  • Is this girl signing the anthem? If so, is that RIGHT? It looks made up. Like this lady. (Based on this, I think she’s full of it.)

In addition to the fascinating fauna people, the flora is pretty great too.

Double-flowering plum trees are everywhere.
They are lovely until a stiff wind comes by.

In general, I’m happy. Everything is going to be ok.

Thanks for being patient with me.

Your new friend,
Beth

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Hi everyone!

My first week went well. Everyone has been very kind, very welcoming.

I’ve also been a bit overwhelmed at the scope of the work to do. I stayed late every night this week trying to get a handle on my role. But my instincts have proven to be sound, and I’ll be fine.

The view from my desk

I have discovered that Oregonians are a particular kind of nice.

They are lovely people, but don’t seem to go out of their way to help. High school friend Aileen, who lives in Salem, warned me about that.

You have to ask explicitly for what you want.

For example, I locked myself out of my house for the first time in my life the week before I started work. The doorknob of the door leading into the garage has a thumb lock you really have to work at to pop out. I thought I had done that.

When I returned from taking out the trash, I realized I had not.

I had only the clothes on my back. No phone. And I was filthy because I had been painting and unboxing and trying to get the place in order.

Ruh, roh, Raggy.

I didn’t even know where campus security was to get help. (I live on campus.) I walked to my soon-to-be office building to call campus security. One of my direct reports was working late. I materialized in her doorway. She and I were both horrified at the state of me. She barely recognized me.

Beth?!

Yeah.

She called security and handed me the phone.

Security officer: I don’t know that we even have keys to that place.

Me: If you don’t, do you know a locksmith?

Him: I’m not from here. I don’t know a locksmith.

Me: Could I use your phone to call one?

Him: Sure. I’ll meet you at your house in 10 minutes.

We arrive at the same time. He tried the keys. No luck. I use his phone to call a locksmith. The dude has to come from Salem, which is 45+minutes. He asks me what kind of lock it is. I tell him it’s heavy duty because it’s campus housing. He says he might have to drill it out. We hang up.

Me: I don’t think the facilities group is going to like that.

Security officer: No. I don’t think the campus locksmith will either.

Me (incredulous): THERE’S A CAMPUS LOCKSMITH?!

Him: Oh yes.

Me: Well, can we call him?

Him: Yes, I’ll call the facilities manager on call.

Me: THERE’S A FACILITIES MANAGER ON CALL?!?

Darrell the Campus Locksmith got there in five minutes and let me in.

See what I mean? Nice but not forthcoming.

It’s different from Southern nice, where people WILL go out of their way but talk smack about you when the screen door shuts.

And different from Midwest nice, where people will go out of their way with no expectation of return favors and no gossip.

So now I know. I can work with that.

I’ll keep you posted on the adventures I expect to have.

Beth

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Hi everyone!

It’s been A WEEK.

My car arrived. I returned the RV. The boys left. The moving truck arrived. I lost count of how many boxes I opened in my quest to settle in. I gained a hundred bruises on my body. I lost weight via sweating.

It’s starting to come together, but it’s been a long week.

The house provided to me has not been loved for some time. I’m grateful for it, but it’s clear it has been short-term housing. I want to be here long-term. I want to leave it better than I found it.

So I painted the living room and dining room by myself.

Look at this nonsense I found while preparing to spackle:

Come ON!
Who paints a living and dining room this yellow anyway? Yes, I know gray has a bad reputation, but it’s better than yellow.

I haven’t painted walls in YEARS. My body was a wreck afterward.

But it looks good.
Sadly, there’s nothing I can do about the Blair Witch basement. Except not EVER go down there at night.
I also met the neighbors.

I haven’t even started work yet, but I had a work event last night. My new university is home to a large wine festival. There is a salmon bake. I was invited to mingle with trustees and donors.

I hadn’t put on makeup and nice clothes for about two weeks.

I even got all the paint out of my hair!

I don’t know what I expected, but it was not the huge event that it was.

Look at all these people!
Meat for miles
The salmon bake
All local produce. Delicious!

I’m so glad I went. It was nice to be among people again after a week spent with boxes and Leo.

Work begins tomorrow.

Wish me luck!
Beth

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Captain’s Log, Day 6 (413 miles logged)

We left the RV parking lot early.

Oregon did not start off impressive.

Dry

Things started looking up, scenery-wise, once we started driving along the Columbia River.

Once again, Leo could not be bothered.

That mouth
Just LOOK at him!

Everyone perked up when the landscape started looking like what you would expect from the Pacific Northwest.

Mt. Hood welcomed us.
Sasquatch hasn’t … yet.

We drove up to my new digs and got the key.

It’s got some things going for it (a big front porch, good size overall) but some things against (no central air, bathrooms are on the first floor while bedrooms are on the second).

And this kitchen — while fine — is nowhere near as great as my St. Louis kitchen.
My St. Louis kitchen. See what I mean?

In fact, I missed my kitchen so much that I CRIED when my utensil organizer wouldn’t fit in the drawer.

It wasn’t about the drawer, though.

It was THE MOMENT that it all became real. I live here now.

I’m so glad I had the family to distract me.

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Dear Readers,

In about a week, I’ll be on the road again. While Willie just can’t wait, I am not similarly excited.

I will be embarking on my sixth move in as many years.

This time I am headed to Oregon. A university there made it very worth my while.

So I’m packing up AGAIN. This time, I’m hiring movers to help me. HOWEVER, moving still belongs in the first, fifth and seventh circles of hell.

And while I’m leaving much of it to the professionals, I still plan to move some personal things, things they won’t take (my wine!), and this guy:

I’m renting an RV to make the cross-country trek with Eddie and the boys. I’m hopeful it will go more smoothly than that other trip we were supposed to take in an RV.

There are a handful of states I haven’t visited, and most of them are in that upper chunk of the United States. So here we go! Adventure awaits.

I’ll be sure to tell you all about it.

Wish me luck (and retained sanity)!
Beth

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Dear Mike:

You absolutely did NOT find something that would interest me. In fact, if you knew me, you would know that is the LAST job that would interest me. Also, unless mini golf counts, I am completely unqualified.

How did you get my email address? I don’t know you. What profile? Linked In? If so, it STILL doesn’t match up.

Take me off whatever list you have.

Kthxbyeeee,
Beth

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I Tetrised the heck out of my stuff to get it all to fit in my tiny trunk.

Dear Readers:

I’ve been keeping this blog for 12 years. I started it because I was about to make a class of students start one. I figured I needed to practice what I preached.

Anyway, though I’ve traveled all over the place and written about my adventures, my home base (i.e., where I get my mail) has always been Georgia.

That changes today. I’m Missouri bound.

Q: Um … why?
A: I got a great new job, and I’ll be based in St. Louis.

Q: Isn’t that where your birth family is?
A: Yes. The universe clearly has something to say. It’s also where I have loads of adopted family.

Q: Is your family excited?
A: Excited for me, yes. But Eddie and the boys aren’t coming with me right now.

Q: What?
A: Yeah. Eddie did not thrive when we moved to Atlanta. He missed Savannah, his job, his friends. So he went back to work at his old job. He’s much happier. The boys are staying in Atlanta with friends until winter break, then they will join him. I’ll be back with them as often as I can, and we’ll work it out.

Q: You think this is the right decision?
A: I effing hope so. We had many family discussions. We decided on this plan together.

Q: You’re ok?
A: Eh. In general. I watched two episodes of “Intervention” last night because I couldn’t sleep. Of course, I convinced myself I was scarring the children. I told Gideon that this morning. He rolled his eyes at me. So maybe I’m not scarring the children.

Q: But what if you are?
A: What if I am? This is the path we chose together. At least the boys will see their parents doing jobs they really like.

Q: When do you start?
A: Monday. I’ll be staying in university housing for two months. My plan is to find a permanent place this week, so I can make arrangements to get all my stuff moved up there.

Q: And you’re sure you’re ok?
A: Well, there’s been plenty of ugly crying. I made a road-trip playlist. I got to “Wide Open Spaces” around Chattanooga, and lost my shit.

If you are inclined, send positive thoughts my way as I (we) embark on this new journey.

I am looking forward to writing about a new environment. I’m sure the Show Me State is named that for a reason.

Meet me in St. Louis,
Beth

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Dear Friends and Family,

Though this year has sucked in ways large and small, I’m thankful for all of you. I have big emotions regarding a few of you, but I’ll save that for a later post.

On this day of Thanksgiving (glossing over the actual horrific origins of this celebration), I’m thankful for small things (in no particular order):

  • Apothic Red for just $10
  • Jeans that fit
  • Fozzy
  • Gideon’s eclectic taste in music
  • Dominic’s dry comments
  • Eddie’s workout habits
  • Purple nail polish
  • Massage therapy
  • Airpods
  • Uno
  • Alexa (but not Siri, sorry)
  • Twitter
  • Apple Music
  • FaceTime, Skype, What’s App, Zoom and Houseparty
  • Netflix, Hulu, Amazon Prime and Disney Plus
  • I have spoken.”
  • Bubble tea
  • Gus’s chicken
  • Writing ability
  • Cooking skills
  • That I can drive a stick shift
  • Ancestry.com
  • The election is over (It is. For real, Donnie.)
  • Saturday Night Live
  • The Amazing Race
  • Jersey Shore Family Vacation
  • Rollerball pens
  • Fleetwood Mac
  • Panhandle Slim
  • Frequent flier miles that don’t expire
  • Friends who invite me over just to drink
  • People who have given me a chance to grow as a person and a professional
  • The fact that the first “Happy Thanksgiving” texts I received were from the moms of my sons’ friends (three of them!)
  • A balcony with lounge chairs and good Atlanta weather so I can be outside
  • Fellow bloggers (like this one and this one)
  • The cute but not functional scarf Goat-yoga Lisa made me

Adorable, right? In the background is the not-cute-but-functional blanket I made.

For what are you thankful? Tell me in the comments.

All my love,
Beth

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Dear Greg, Publix Manager:

Thank you for hiring Dominic this week.

You have no idea how thankful I am to get him off the Xbox, his phone and the couch.

He’ll be gainfully employed. Occupied and out of trouble. Able to buy his own snacks.

(His lunch today? Oreos, Goldfish and popcorn.)

He made me laugh as I was taking him to the interview with you. WAY overconfident:

Me: Are you nervous?

Him: No. Who wouldn’t like me?

Oh LORD.

But you did like him, so he wasn’t wrong.

I could not be happier for him to get a taste of real life.

So, thank you from the bottom of my mom heart.

Your loyal customer,
Beth

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