Jobs

I am really good at getting jobs. Not necessarily keeping them.

When I first moved to California I was like a young baseball pitcher. I had a great fastball. I loved applying for jobs. I loved interviewing. To know me was to love me. Then I got tired of the game. I tried doing my coaching. Ran out of money. Has to go back to work and realized I didn’t have the snap on my heater.

Back to the drawing board. For the last four years I have been roughed up. Took some bad beats. Shitty low paying or total commission sales jobs. I am a wily veteran relying on instinct. Experience.

The last job was a godsend. A director after three years of carrying the bag so to speak. I was in debt. Spending more than I was bringing in. For three fucking years. I blew my savings, most of my retirement, I ran up credit card debt and high interest insecure loans. Every fucking day in 2020 I kept telling myself I had to move. I had to lower my expenses. I kept putting it off. I didn’t want to leave my home. Disrupt my daughters life.

End of July I got a corrective action plan at my shitty sales job. The job sucked but it was job number 8. staying put somewhere had value. Being put on notice actually gave hope. I needed to find job number 9. Perhaps I could get back to the pay level necessary.

I started the ugly whore process on the job boards. Again. Stumbled upon the job. The owner was a guy who I supervised at job number 1. He hired me two weeks before I could get fired at number 8.

The pay was not peak but enough to pay my bills, keep my house. It was a fucking movie made salvation happy ending. A sign god wanted me to stay. That if I just stayed calm, believed in myself, things would work out.

Three fucking months later I walk in and get laid off. He didn’t even call me. Had the hr rep do it.

My mind snapped. During the pandemic with too much time to think. The whip from amazing salvation to burning pile unhinged me. I thought I would stay at that job at least two years. My daughter would be in high school. Just get her through high school. 5 more years.

Now I couldn’t stand the site of Orange County. I kicked and clawed. Scrambled through nine fucking jobs. Found a blessing. Turned out to be the cruelest motherfucker yet. I looked for job 10 in Orange County. The idea made me sick. I needed to get out instead. I looked everywhere. I was willing to go to Sacramento. Stockton/Modesto. I had lived in Modesto before. It was the hardest time of my life. Now I was willing to go back.

Phoenix came up. I missed the recruiters first email. Sent him a message. We talked. Fast tracked to the regional Vice President. Then zoom calls. Division vp, hr, compliance. Offered the job.

I know little about Phoenix. I need to get away. I need to break away. I need to give up the familiar. This house. This neighborhood. I need a new perspective. This is not job 10 in Orange County.

This is job one in Phoenix. There is a new perspective. I am taking it.