Progress! I mean, sort of. A little.


I got a callback today. It wasn’t a callback for an interview; it wasn’t even a callback involving real live people who might hire me. It was a callback to take a computerized pre-test before an interview decision is made. Nia and I decided that it’s either one of those “are you fucked up in the head” tests or an “are you a thief” test.

It’s also at Pizza Hut. I don’t even know what I’m doing with this job hunt anymore. Hooray, a result! Kind of! The potential for a result, anyway! On the other hand, boo! Pizza Hut! They don’t even pay minimum wage. Seriously. And I’m still going to take the stupid test because hey, maybe I’d make good tips.

(Insert string of obscenities here.)

(Also, hey Pizza Hut: Perhaps your employees would not be fucked in the head or prone to thievery if you PAID THEM. Just a thought! Love, Sara.)

(Continue obscenities. Really stretch out that “fuck.” FUUUUUUUUUCK. There, doesn’t it feel good?)

So, anyway, there’s that. This evening Connor and I are going to hang with Michael’s best friend, his kid, one of my friends, her kids, and possibly another friend-and-child set. It will be chaotic, I’m sure, and we’ll probably get bug bites, and we’ll definitely come home smelling like mesquite smoke. This is all part of Operation: Get The Hell Out Of This House, which is going better than anticipated but only because I am exerting effort equivalent to dragging forty steel-frame diesel trucks uphill through quicksand after having removed the wheels. This week has been like that, okay on paper but exhausting in reality, and I don’t know if it’s worth it in the long run. Maybe I should just accept my house-bound, broke status until something literally falls into my lap, because all this trying is getting kind of ridiculous. Three hours of planning, four phone calls, two car-seat transfers, and an argument with my husband for a one-hour barbecue? Two months of fighting, three missed interviews, nine frantic phone calls, and three friends on standby for a Pizza Hut pre-test?

Please, y’all — just wake me up when Bill Gates calls, okay?

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4 Responses to Progress! I mean, sort of. A little.

  1. Moose says:

    I have decided we both need to find jobs that pay us six figures to read novels all day. (It’s called Operation: DREAM BIG.)

  2. averagelyscruffy says:

    if there were any such thing as copyediting in Sara’s neck of the tumbleweeds, she could almost make that much for reading.

  3. Anne says:

    Pizza Hut spend that much money on recruiting people?!

  4. sarawr says:

    No — make no mistake about it: They aren’t spending their money so much as they are spending potential employees’ time and resources. Big franchises do this a lot; they make the application process as grueling, invasive, and time-consuming as possible to “weed out the unreliables” or “ensure the quality of their employees” or “make sure there will be good employer/employee camaraderie.” What they’re really doing is a) tying you up so that you can’t hunt for other jobs while they’re considering you, b) vetting you — making sure that, even though you’re poor enough to need a job with them, you’re not a thief/druggie/flake, and c) covering their own asses so that if you fuck up later, they can say, “But she was tested/trained/quizzed extensively!”

    I don’t know if you’re a fan of Barbara Ehrenreich, but if you’re into this kind of thing she’s got a great book on trying to find work when you’re poor and have limited resources — it’s called Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting by in America.

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