About a week ago, the portrait studio called me back and offered me the job, which I accepted. And I didn't hear anything from them.
So, I called them about a week ago at eight in the morning for a "Er, hey, what's up?" And they never called me back.
I called them today and got a human being. "So, what's up? Am I just waiting on you guys, or what?" Oh, yeah, we're just trying to put together a training schedule. We'll totally let you know.
Does this resemble being jerked around to any of you, or is this normal? Having never had a normal job, I have no concept.
But, I no longer feel any guilt for sucking at returning phone calls. Some might feel it's karmic justice, but it makes me feel that I never actually did anything out of the ordinary.
I'm also talking to a woman about twenty minutes south of here who has horses she wants exercised. That'd be a no pay deal, but, hey, horses. We'd originally talked meeting this afternoon, but again, she said she'd probably call and let me know for certain. I haven't heard from her, but I'm probably going to leave in an hour and sort of drive in that direction, hoping I get a phone call on the way that I was right to think so.
I can't decide whether I should keep trying for a job number two or not. This photo thing is seasonal (and who knows when the hell that would actually start), up until Christmas, and then at the end of the time they keep their four favourites for a more permanent position.
I know I won't hear back from the kid's job. Pretty sure I was too white for that, and that's cool. I understand the staff they already had were an older white lady, and a middle aged white guy: if their programme is aimed at underprivileged minorities, they don't need more pastey people on staff.
And now I don't expect to hear back from the newspaper, though I did expect to hear something one way or the other. They've still got their ad up, though. But they also said they'd get back to me. Then again, the portrait place is certainly taking their sweet time about this. I feel stupid calling people and pestering them (because that's kinda what it feels like when you don't get a response), but then I get told that it's stupid not to call and pester them because "that shows intent."
I dunno. I'm not cut out for this work stuff. I'm taking my bucket and moving to Florida, where I will be a beach bucket drummer, handing out tunes and deep philosophy in the early morning sun, the waves crashing in time with my groovy beat. I will collect the shells and paint them and sell them to tourist children.
Only I really don't like Florida.