As I disclosed tonight via Facebook, I have made a rather sudden and abrupt career change, effective today.
I don't know what brought it on. I was just sitting on the couch last Sunday, surfing the net via the iPad, when I had this uncontrollable urge to visit a certain store's website (henceforth known as "The Store." No, I will not be disclosing my new employer. And if you know me in person, I ask you to please respect this request). I was actually looking for closed-toed black heels for the upcoming Firm Holiday party when I thought, randomly, to click on "Careers."
What a wonderful world that must be, I thought to myself, as I envisioned The Store's employees. You are surrounded by shiny, pretty objects. Makeup galore. Supple hand lotion that is always available, just when your hands are their driest. Neatly organized clothing with glamorous designer labels. And most importantly, a clientele that doesn't hear voices, hate their spouse, hate their life, or hate their therapist. I began to fantasize that The Store was the answer to my stay-at-home dilemma: a fun, exciting part-time that has no overhead costs, no after-hour phone calls, and no one on suicide watch.
(obviously, there are many jobs that hold that job description. But when you are a therapist by trade and by nature, something shiny looks pretty damn good when you are constantly surrounded by despair, depression, and hopelessness. And this particular website had my attention.)
And so I clicked on "Current Job Openings."
There, on the top of the list, was a Las Vegas job opening.
And in about 35 minutes, my application was complete. I completed the personality assessment (and kind of giggled when I realized the internal validity scale was fairly basic.) Did I have any experience in commissioned sales? No. How about how I would treat an irate customer? Um...no clue. And what is this about toting the company line? I've been non-profit or government my whole life. I don't know what it's like to be a company gal. I've rebelled against anything that was even remotely unethical or immoral, and always held my clients' best interest at heart, regardless of the consequences. After all, "Braveheart" is my favorite movie for a reason.
(Freeeeee-dooooooom!)
Despite my inclinations, I clicked "submit." Maybe it was the wine.
Whatever.
The next day I received an email telling me I had passed the first round and would I be interested in a phone interview? Why yes, that sounded like fun. Why not?
That took 4 minutes, 23 seconds (I timed it). She asked me to come in for a one on one, and today, I did that. (I also did a recon mission last Wednesday to 1.) buy a new outfit, 2.) see how they treated me when I was wearing only yoga pants, a stained fleece pull-over and no make-up, and 3.) to see how they handle a sale when two salespeople are involved. In this order, I discovered: 1.) great! Found a gorgeous tweed suit on sale, paired it with tights and some shabooties, and felt moderately trendy, 2.) they were insanely nice regardless of my appearance and 3.) there was no overt competitiveness or agressiveness. A solid pass on all three counts.)
I also made some phone calls/texts to a friend who work in HR and one who is a buyer for a major department store and grilled them on what I should do/respond/act. I really tried to stack the cards in my favor. I wasn't leaving anything to chance.
Today, I met with the HR director and then a department manager and...was offered a position!
::SQUEAL!!!::
I tried not to touch (let alone lick) the gorgeous racks of clothing that surrounded me, although I did accidentally let out a very high-pitched, "This is my dream job, OMG!" to the manager. She just smiled at me benevolently. I'm guessing she heard this with each new hire.
And the best news is that they have been beyond flexible with my schedule requests. About 20 hours a week, two days during the week,and not until 3pm. Which means Scotty will be with a sitter for all of 8 hours a week. I can handle that.
So, wish me luck on this new endeavor. Brian believes it to be a losing proposition, since any money I make will likely end up back at The Store (in the form of beautiful boots or perhaps a lovely piece of jewelry. Sweater, anyone?) But my thinking is, if I happen to get a new wardrobe out of this, it was worth it, right??
I don't know what brought it on. I was just sitting on the couch last Sunday, surfing the net via the iPad, when I had this uncontrollable urge to visit a certain store's website (henceforth known as "The Store." No, I will not be disclosing my new employer. And if you know me in person, I ask you to please respect this request). I was actually looking for closed-toed black heels for the upcoming Firm Holiday party when I thought, randomly, to click on "Careers."
What a wonderful world that must be, I thought to myself, as I envisioned The Store's employees. You are surrounded by shiny, pretty objects. Makeup galore. Supple hand lotion that is always available, just when your hands are their driest. Neatly organized clothing with glamorous designer labels. And most importantly, a clientele that doesn't hear voices, hate their spouse, hate their life, or hate their therapist. I began to fantasize that The Store was the answer to my stay-at-home dilemma: a fun, exciting part-time that has no overhead costs, no after-hour phone calls, and no one on suicide watch.
(obviously, there are many jobs that hold that job description. But when you are a therapist by trade and by nature, something shiny looks pretty damn good when you are constantly surrounded by despair, depression, and hopelessness. And this particular website had my attention.)
And so I clicked on "Current Job Openings."
There, on the top of the list, was a Las Vegas job opening.
And in about 35 minutes, my application was complete. I completed the personality assessment (and kind of giggled when I realized the internal validity scale was fairly basic.) Did I have any experience in commissioned sales? No. How about how I would treat an irate customer? Um...no clue. And what is this about toting the company line? I've been non-profit or government my whole life. I don't know what it's like to be a company gal. I've rebelled against anything that was even remotely unethical or immoral, and always held my clients' best interest at heart, regardless of the consequences. After all, "Braveheart" is my favorite movie for a reason.
(Freeeeee-dooooooom!)
Despite my inclinations, I clicked "submit." Maybe it was the wine.
Whatever.
The next day I received an email telling me I had passed the first round and would I be interested in a phone interview? Why yes, that sounded like fun. Why not?
That took 4 minutes, 23 seconds (I timed it). She asked me to come in for a one on one, and today, I did that. (I also did a recon mission last Wednesday to 1.) buy a new outfit, 2.) see how they treated me when I was wearing only yoga pants, a stained fleece pull-over and no make-up, and 3.) to see how they handle a sale when two salespeople are involved. In this order, I discovered: 1.) great! Found a gorgeous tweed suit on sale, paired it with tights and some shabooties, and felt moderately trendy, 2.) they were insanely nice regardless of my appearance and 3.) there was no overt competitiveness or agressiveness. A solid pass on all three counts.)
I also made some phone calls/texts to a friend who work in HR and one who is a buyer for a major department store and grilled them on what I should do/respond/act. I really tried to stack the cards in my favor. I wasn't leaving anything to chance.
Today, I met with the HR director and then a department manager and...was offered a position!
::SQUEAL!!!::
I tried not to touch (let alone lick) the gorgeous racks of clothing that surrounded me, although I did accidentally let out a very high-pitched, "This is my dream job, OMG!" to the manager. She just smiled at me benevolently. I'm guessing she heard this with each new hire.
And the best news is that they have been beyond flexible with my schedule requests. About 20 hours a week, two days during the week,and not until 3pm. Which means Scotty will be with a sitter for all of 8 hours a week. I can handle that.
So, wish me luck on this new endeavor. Brian believes it to be a losing proposition, since any money I make will likely end up back at The Store (in the form of beautiful boots or perhaps a lovely piece of jewelry. Sweater, anyone?) But my thinking is, if I happen to get a new wardrobe out of this, it was worth it, right??
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