Those who wear the clothes should be happy they're dressed

Dune recently said how we attract the things we fear the most. There are various contemporary philosophies agreeing with this -- from the cosmic ordering service and intention-manifestation to explanations more firmly rooted in Psychology. The end result is the same -- whether it's a fear of being left, a fear of never being loved, or a fear of failure, the time and energy you spend thinking about these things acts like a tractor beam, hastening their path towards you.

This post was originally written as one of my usual rants, whines or general complaints about feeling unemployable. While some people may convince themselves of everything from them being unlovable to the idea that aliens fathered their child, I get hung up about work. Which I guess is really the idea that I will never be good enough -- since I'm fairly sure if I didn't care what I could get and keep *some* job or another, yet never be satisfied. Actually, this last point is a post for another day: I think I continue to need therapy because no matter what changes in my life, I don't think I am going to be content (I say may I never be complete, I say may I never be content). There is some obstacle (mostly of my own creation, I don't doubt) that sits in my chest -- so even if I'm someday living in London with a good job, a girl who thinks I rock, and a cat, this feeling is unlikely to shift. I do emo so well it hurts. Which obviously is the whole point of doing it.

What it comes down to is why has "a job" or "a career" become so important? Is it just me that is hung up on it, or is it pressure from "society", exerting a force on many others? When people meet you, the first thing they ask you is "So what do you do?", friends and relatives always ask "What are you up to now?". We are defined by the jobs we do. But you are not your job. You are not the contents of your wallet, or how much money you have in the bank.

What would it be like if people just took any job that came along and nobody thought any more of work than that -- instead, people might meet for the first time and ask what their favourite song is, or what their hobbies are. What constitutes being a success? And will anything ever be enough to stop me considering myself a failure?

Anyway, clawing my way back to the post in hand -- I was feeling unemployable, then two interviews came through. When I decided the time had come to get back into the job market I updated who I thought were my trusted key recruiters -- a media recruiter, and someone who was less media orientate but appreciated my key skills. The latter thanked me for my update, and said to keep him updated with my progress. Gee, thanks mate -- you're meant to be the one looking for the jobs for me. The first was enthusiastic to hear from me, but told me that having not worked in PR for the last six months she wasn't optimistic about being able to find any work for me, since I'd found it difficult enough before. Was I willing to look a bit wider afield this time, she enquired? By all means. My CV was dutifully distributed among the whole of the recruitment consultancy -- resulting in the overwhelming interest from a whole one other recruiter.

The new recruiter, named Jake, found a marketing job that was less PR and more press office and which sounded great. Good location, good money, varied and interesting role. Unfortunately it was filled before they called me for interview. Next he found a job with a digital marketing agency to put me forward for. Time passed, and I heard nothing. I called him and he said that the person recruiting had been away but they were back now so things would start moving. And I still heard nothing. I'm pretty sure I left him a message one day which he didn't return. After I eventually gave up on the position, I was browsing one evening the job's board for the consultancy, seeing what was new. I saw a job I thought ticked all my boxes and I'd be perfect for -- only to find that the recruiter to contact about it was my good friend Jakey. I emailed him expressing my interest and asking his thoughts. He couldn't have been less interested himself, since he never bothered to reply. I unofficially ditched him and his motley crew of colleagues.

The search from there has been in fits and starts -- some days I'd find several jobs online and apply for them all, and receive no replies. Other days there'd be nothing that seemed to light my fuse. One day at work I was roused out my near-slumber that tends to be natural state during the 9 to 5 routine of working in purchasing -- roused by my silently vibrating mobile phone. I glanced at the display, saw it was a local number, and presumed it was the library probably calling to tell my Norwegian language course was available to pick up. When I played the voicemail I found it was instead the recruiter who had got me my illustrious job in purchasing -- having found a job in publishing she thought I'd be perfect for.

Over email, we discussed the job, I had her send me more information and told her to put me forward for it, although a couple of points bothered me -- the location was deeper into the Essex countryside than where I already am, and the pay was pretty low. By the middle of last week I was feeling pretty uninspired about work in general and less than optimistic about myself, I scoured the innernetz for more jobs (since I can't rely on recruiters to be any more useful than a chocolate teapot) and applied for one working for a design studio.

I was surprised when the publishers invited me for an interview, and still torn between being pleased (better job! better prospects! some sort of vague direction!) and being unsure (horrible travel! isolated location! no money!). Annoyingly two days before the interview, my internet died. No warning, seemingly no explanation -- the wireless network and router insisted they were working fine, but there was no internet. Other points in the house at first were still thinking they did have internet, until they caught on to the plan and decided the network didn't even exist. This continued on and off to the next day when I figured the problem was unlikely to be actually the internet but probably my router. Master reset time for the router. Guess who forgot to make a note of the specific details of the username and password? Pretty sure I had the details correct (and safe in the knowledge it was broken before I started the drastic measures) when I was still unable to connect, I called the ISP. Due to unusually high call volumes, the recorded message told me, there was to be a wait in excess of 15 minutes.

While on hold with the ISP on my mobile with one hand I was also trying to marinade pork steaks in piri-piri sauce, they caught me off-guard when they answered but things were quickly got under control. They were also quickly resolved when I found out that Microsoft's latest update had knocked out internet connections for anyone using the ZoneAlarm firewall -- and that I had inputted the wrong username details after the master reset. An uninstall and a correction later the internet was restored -- I felt like I had regrown a lost limb.

What I haven't mentioned was while I was trying to restore my internet my mobile signalled I had another call waiting, to which I responded "busy". After I hung up I noticed the dialling code was for central London, but suspected it was a health insurance company who had been calling me all week wanting to give me a quote -- the voicemail was instead inviting me for an interview with the design agency I had applied for a job with two nights previously. Suddenly I had gone from attracting the thing I feared most (failure) to two job interviews.

The interview with the publishers on Friday morning went well. They liked me and introduced me around to people in the office, I liked them and spoke enthusiastically about what they do and the role. I wasn't even back in the office before my recruiter was calling to say they wanted me to come for a second interview. Still battling my doubts on the job, but I am going to give it all I have and see where the flow of the energy takes me. The design agency job interview is on Tuesday, and I am a little intimidated by their work. I am not a designer by any stretch of the imagination, but in my defence they aren't recruiting for a designer -- they are recruiting for a publicity assistant or the like. Presumably, they've read my cover letter, they've looked at my CV, so they know what side my toast is buttered on. Still, it's going to take some more hardcore researching and self belief.

Whether you believe you can, or believe you can't, you'll be right.

UPDATE: I didn't get either job. Back to square 1.