The dread of getting a job - the whole process of applying, interviewing, staging (going in for free for one day to work with them), starting a job and familiarizing oneself with procedure and coworkers, it all is not a fun process for me. I just like to interview for a job and get to work and hopefully it works out. But who are we kidding. I complain about all my jobs. Doesn't everyone? No? Apparently some people like their jobs and get paid a fair amount. Well, La - De - Da.
Really, I just want to run my own teeny restaurant. Oh, have I said this before? Sorry. But that's all I want to do. I just want to cook lots of yummy food and serve it to people. No bullshit. Okay, well, no bullshit from bosses. Is that too much to ask? Yes? I know. And yes, I realize that "so many restaurants open and close within the first year, it's the highest risk industry." With a quick Google search, I came up with an article from 2007, http://www.businessweek.com/smallbiz/content/apr2007/sb20070416_296932.htm by Kerry Miller, who did his own research and determined that there is (or was back then) a 60% failure rate. So, that's a 40% chance of succeeding. I'm either a very careful person, or I like to play the odds. With a restaurant, I would be willing to play the odds. Because, besides my lack of self confidence and non existent self esteem, I know that I have the ability to cook and run a kitchen.
What I am not good at, is working with a boss who's motives, ethics or mode of operation do not jive with mine. And I had a lot of that in San Diego. A whole lot. Like, all of my jobs. I guess that's a big part of why I wanted to talk the FP into moving. Selfish, yes. But there were other reasons that I believed would benefit the FP. And I still think the reasons still stand.
But anyway, I love the sense of adventure of moving to a new place and seeing how we thrive. The FP never has any problem with thriving, even if he starts off with a rocky first year or two. So, when he's in a bad mood (which happens almost every day), I have to remind myself to shed some of the catholic guilt and not blame myself for his bad mood.
Did I persuade him to move when he really didn't want to? Yes. But did I hold a gun to his head? Not literally....
While he holds on to everything good about the past and forgets the bad, and I only remember the more poignant moments from the past, he always makes out better than me. He's more talented, he's more charismatic and charming, he's more pleasant to be around, and he's got the more overt mainstream crowd pleasing sense of humor.
So, maybe I should stop worrying about his well being (which is fine and dandy for the most part, given the move to a foreign land) and focus on getting my well being in order to get a job. I've been carrying around this ghost of depression for the past almost year and a half, and I need to shake it. And at the same time, I need to gain some self esteem, and remind myself, that just because I look like a small helpless lady doesn't mean that I am one.
Here's my job search summary so far, sorry if I've already talked about these previously:
1. Got a call from a cheese shop in Fort Lauderdale the weekend before the closing of the house. I planned to call the day after, and I forgot. I planned to call the day after that, and I forgot again. And then we were waist deep in house shit, and I didn't even think about it, until it was way too late. It was for a part time job to work the cheese counter, so it probably wasn't the best of pay, anyway. Well, that's what I tell myself.
2. I got a call from a Midtown Miami wine bar that was soon to open. The cooks were really not going to be cooks at all in the literal definition of "one who cooks food." The kitchen was to be a bare minimum stripped down kitchen with cold tapas like cheese plates and charcuterie and things of that nature. So, I don't know what the pay was going to be, but the job description wasn't the most exciting. However, the company that was opening the bar is a multi outlet national company, so it never hurts to hook up with a company like that. Well, I was supposed to go to a kind of open interview of people who were personally called by the Chef/Owner. This was the first week that I had been sick. I woke up, and my voice was very hoarse. I was waiting to see if my voice would get better as the day went on, but not really. A couple hours before the last possible time I could go down there, I informed the guy that I wouldn't make it because I was sick. So, he hired cooks who started the next week. Maybe I was being a pussy and should have gone. But it didn't feel right. I couldn't think straight, and I doubted my confidence in pulling off a great interview. Consequently, while I probably could have sucked it up and gone in to start a job the next week, it would have been ugly. And I don't think the other employees would have wanted me sniffling and coughing on them all day.
3. I applied to an ad about a cook position entailing prepping in the morning in an offsite kitchen, and then going to a cafe where the cook would prepare and sell and serve the food to customers. Sounds handleable. So, I got a call back to meet about the job at a Panera in Fort Lauderdale. The woman who was doing the hiring was just kind of helping getting the cafe running. So, she was the personal chef of the owner of the Ferrari dealer across the street. So, he wanted to open a cafe in the dealership to offer healthy lunches to employees and to the customers, along with fancy espresso drinks. I could totally do that job, but the woman interviewing me doubted my interest, I think, because the pay was a little lower than what I was hoping for. So, she hired someone else.
4. I got a call back for a grocery store similar to Whole Foods called The Fresh Market. I had to go to a Hyatt in Fort Lauderdale where they were just interviewing one applicant after another. So, I met the store manager and the human resources director. We sat down, and they asked me the same questions they asked over the phone. Then they asked me how much hourly I was looking for. I told them, and I also said, "that's probably somewhat higher than what you're offering, I'm sure." I was told it was way more than what they were offering, and it was definitely only part time. So, they asked if I was still interested, and I decided not, and we called it quits.
5. I went to a "gourmet sandwich shop" in Miami to turn in my resume. Of course, they made me fill out an application too, and I didn't have all the information, of course. So, it took a while to fill it out, and I had to go to the car to look up phone numbers and addresses from my phone. The chef seemed grumpy and didn't want to deal with me at the moment, so I got a not good impression of the place. But, he called me for an interview today, so I guess I have to call back tomorrow.
6. I went into a large fancy upscale restaurant down the street from the sandwich shop to turn in a resume. It was Saturday morning a little before 11. I didn't realize the place did such a busy brunch, so maybe that wasn't the best time to go. Anyway, the manager/owner told me to wait while he got the guy I was supposed to talk to. The catering chef was really busy, so I was led to the kitchen to briefly meet him. He was busy, as his job is to make all the commissary food for that restaurant and the other two sister outlets which are even busier than that one. And he's the only catering chef. So, he was busy, and no one had informed him that they were going to be putting an ad in craigslist for help for him and that he was to take walk in interviews. So, he took my resume and told me he would call me Monday. He didn't call, and I don't think he will, because this is hardcore catering, and I don't have the experience for that!
So that's that. The woman who interviewed me for the Ferrari job told me that she had been out for work for most of the year, and that she would put out 20 - 30 resumes every month and only get a call back once every several months. I don't know what her resume is, or if she was exaggerating, or if it was the down season. But, hey, comparing with her responses, mine are way better, right?
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