Good moring all! Thanks for leaving me your input in the last poll — I really did have constipation of the brain. So, um, my dear readers are the figurative equivalent of Ex-lax.
Crap. You know what? I’m not liking the direction this post has taken. I’m starting over.
Good morrow, dear friends! Per your stated wishes in the last post, I shall at once describe the change in vocation that I hope to bring about. Tally-ho!
As y’all know, I went to Ye Olde Liberal Arts School. It was a very nice school, with very lovely professors and very accomplished students. I learned a lot about myself during those years, started to grow into my skin ( a process I continue to this day), and made some friendships that I do think will last me the rest of my life.
Aaaaaaand . . . that’s kind of all. Sure, I graduated cum laude. Sure, YOLAS is considered an elite school. But it’s not that well known outside of its regional area.
I graduated in 2002 and jobs were nonexistent. After what I like to call my Lost Year, I started working for Ye Olde Financial Company in 2003. I stayed there until we left MA this October. The company was a good place for me; I moved around some, got promoted some, and generally had a successful career.
I thought, when we moved down here, that it could not possibly be as hard to find employment down here as it was in 2002/2003, and I was right — I’ve got high hopes for a couple leads I’m following. But the fact remains: It’s damn hard to quantify being a good worker in that industry.
Let’s compare my resume to Made Up Person, who was in my group back in Boston. Now, the folks there hated MUP. He didn’t do his work on time, wasn’t attentive to the bosses, was careless in his editing, and generally belligerent. Every time he was assigned to a project, the other participating folks would groan internally and plan on doing more than their fair share of work — they knew they’d need to.
Me? (Sorry, but I’m gonna toot my own horn here — bear with me for one paragraph.) They loved working with me. Higher-ups would request me specifically on projects, or approach me independently with small projects that I’d have to clear with my boss. I was always careful in my review, massively hard on myself when I made mistakes (I **HATE** making mistakes!!!!), and diligent to such small things as whether the higher-ups preferred their copies double-sided or single-sided, paper-clipped or stapled.
And yet on paper? His resume and mine will list roughly the same thing in that position. The average recruiter will see no difference between his resume and mine. This despite the fact that I was told explicitly (well, I would have been told, if I wasn’t making up the MUP character) that they cut MUP’s bonus to increase mine.
I’m so TIRED of this. I’m so tired of looking for work with nebulous credentials. And now tack on the fact that there’s a decent chance we’ll have to move again within the next seven years, so I’ll get to do it all over again. Yay! . . . umm, not.
Soooooo . . . I’m going back to school!
Mind you, I never missed school. Well, not school per-say. I missed having tons of friends within walking distance, along with my two choirs, but that’s all. I have enough younger siblings and friends to remember exactly how much I hated doing 20 page papers and cramming for tests and having the fear of unemployment hang over me. I never wanted to go back.
But I’m hungry for an actual skill set. I’m eager for a license or qualification that frees me from depending on the intuition of an HR person who will believe that I’m a good worker. And I need something that will transfer easily if we end up moving. Oh, and since I’m tired of being frightened of unemployment — a fear I’ve had my whole life, btw — I want a job in an industry that I know is growing.
Can anyone guess? I bet people have guessed!
Yes, I’m going to nursing school! Hooray!
Well, actually, I’m starting at a community college this week to get the prerequisites so I can apply to a university Advanced to BSN program. I’ve got my BA, so it should take about two years total — one year to knock out the prereqs (who wants to butcher a pig?) and one year for the actual program.
I think I’m suited to being a nurse. Whether it’s caring for the camp kiddee who scraped his knee or holding back some girl’s hair in the graduation party bathroom, I somehow end up caretaking for the folks around me. I’m fairly sure my stomach is strong enough — I don’t have a problem with blood and guts. I volunteered at a hawk shelter for months and got to play with rats and dull scissors; that didn’t bother me. (“Let’s see, 18 red-tailed hawks . . . each one requires one-third of a giant rat . . . wish they didn’t have rat shit all over the hindquarters . . . “ **) I don’t have a lot of trouble switching my biological clock — I could do the midnight-to-8-AM shift without difficulty. I know the job can get gross, and I know the job can get absolutely heartbreaking, and I think I’m prepared for that.
Of course, whether it’s nursing or parenting or whatever, everyone *thinks* they’re prepared, right? Perhaps the first time I get puked on by a complete stranger I’ll hang up my Crocs.
But I’m determined. And, assuming that I get my license, I’m guaranteed a growing industry. I mean, does anyone think that the medical profession is going to become less important? And with ObamaCare rolling down the Pike and doctors quitting willy-nilly, does anyone think nurses are going to become less valuable?
So that’s my story, folks. Wish me luck!
P.S. I know Christina‘s doing sort of the same thing. Thanks, Christina, I’m braced for Microbiology!
**The rats didn’t bother me. Nor did the chicks. However, the osprey food? VILE. It would take HOURS for me to stop smelling that nasty slimy fish on my fingers. Even if I was imagining it.