Today is a downer of a day, and not just because of the weather, which is grey, dreary, rainy and above average depressing. Since I was laid-off mid-March, I have been diligently looking for work. And yet here I am, June 2nd, still unemployed.
Job Search Logistics
I am doing everything right – telling friends, acquaintances and anyone else who will listen about my unemployed state (a.k.a. networking); searching the online job boards; applying for jobs that interests me even if they’re not the “perfect” fit; keeping a job search journal; and doing follow-ups. So why am I still job searching? To make matters (psychologically) worse, one of the women who had been laid off the day before me has already found employment, a job for which, by the way, I also interviewed for.
This entire job search process reminds me of the time I turned up at my drum lesson prepared to present my jazz ride to my teacher. I was working my way through some typical ride cymbal patterns for different music genres including rock, blues and jazz. I had been intensely (and diligently) practicing this particular jazz ride for three weeks. But when I played it for him, his response, after several beats of diplomatic silence was, “Did you get a chance to practice?” In short my thorough and attentive job hunting efforts, as with my jazz cymbal ride practice sessions, did not garner the desired result in proportion with the amount of time and effort I put into it.
Jazz Ride Logistics
It’s funny to me, that when people find out I’m a hobby drummer, the most common response is one of envy that I have an outlet for my frustration. Drums – just to set the record straight – are musical instruments and should be treated with respect. I’ll never forget when my drum teacher handed me a cup tea before we got started. Without thinking, I took it with me into the studio and set it down on the floor tom while I repositioned the hi-hat (my drum teacher was tall; I am short). He pointedly informed me that a drum wasn’t an end table – a lesson I learned more quickly than a jazz ride I might add. So, today, being the kind of day it was, I sat down on the throne (no, it’s not what you’re thinking; it’s what drummers call the stool they sit on), picked up my sticks and took an unabashed break from job hunting.
Life is Like That
I couldn’t sit in for Clayton Cameron or Peter Erskine, but just the concentrated effort it takes to execute a jazz ride magically transformed my perspective – yes, it was still grey and raining outside; yes, I had to get back to my job search; yes unemployment was still a reality – but somehow the day became a little more hopeful.