Making Waves

17 Aug

Joining the job-hunting masses is like entering a pool.

There are those who look suave, slick and sleek. They make few splashes, join the hunt, and get out of the race relatively unscathed. I think these people end up in professional environments with cubicles and joking office gossip next to the water cooler.

There are those in the shallow end, dipping their toes in gingerly and wearing all the appropriate protective gear. These are the people afraid of networking, afraid of momentum, and afraid of wrong choices. We’ve all been there. It’s much easier to wear the floaties than learn to ride without the training wheels (I do so love a mixed metaphor, don’t you?). You feel safe. Nobody drowns in the kiddie pool. Okay, maybe some people drown in the kiddie pool, but that’s just beside the point.

And then there are the dreamers and the idiots who think they can fly. I envy those who reach so high they can’t see the hospitalizing belly flop awaiting them below.

Where do I fit into this hierarchy? Well, it hasn’t been pretty. It also hasn’t been totally safe. I mean, I could be working at any one of my relatives’ exciting business opportunities (A-Afordable Insurance anyone?) right now, but I’m stubbornly sticking it out on my own. And I am certainly not careening above the pool hoping I don’t fall.

I’m somewhere in the middle. A sort of take-a-deep-breath-and-put-your-head-under job hunt. I’m going to find and apply to at least three jobs a week. I’ve got a job-hunt buddy to keep me on track. And maybe, just maybe, my middle-of-the-road approach will let me go the distance. As Ryan and Sarah’s experiences show, this is a marathon, not a speed race. If folklore is at all to be trusted, the tortoise wins. And I am so gonna rock that tortoise.

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