I have four tabs up on the computer with jobs that I'll be applying for shortly. Applying online is so frustrating. I send off applications and resumes and hear nothing. I've seen jobs that I've applied for get re posted two weeks later and think, "Why didn't they just call me?" I think you miss something applying online. The employers don't get to see you. They don't get to talk with you, they don't get to feel your personality. You either look good on paper, or you don't. I don't look bad on paper, but I don't look awesome. There are a lot of people who look great on paper, but are socially retarded. People like me. I learn very fast. Hire me goddamn it!
My dream job would be a merchandising position in fashion. I'm really good at it, and it comes pretty naturally. My first job out of high school was in the juniors department of a brand new Foley's. It didn't take long before the head of merchandising would just ask me to take care of the juniors department. Soon after that the store manager would have me go around to every department to fold jeans. I was the "Jean Queen" any time a big wig was coming for a store evaluation I had to fold every pair of jeans in the store and redo all the juniors displays. Not that I ever got credit for it. I still remember the merchandising manager the store manager and some big guy with the company looking at a display I had done. The big wig and the store manager were saying how much the loved the display, and the Merchandising manager said...."thank you." After a year at Foley's I got a job at a small southwestern clothing boutique in Old Town. Now my style is certainly not southwestern. In fact I was in more of a goth punk phase, but I still did good work. I sold well, and within a few months they would save all display work for me. That lasted for about 7 years, then I had David and the owner sold the shop. I didn't work for a few years. When I got hired on at the gallery, I once again became the go to person for display work. I'm just super good at it. I would hear customers all the time saying how much they loved the displays.
Anyhoo, I can't find a job. I guess that's the bottom line. It makes me long for simpler times. Like when I lived in my tiny studio apartment and paid $350.00 a month utilities included. Sure, it had indoor outdoor carpeting and was built of cinder block. But it was home. I sort of miss how when the Lesbians two floors below me would fight It still sounded like they were right next door, and how my window looked out to another window set in cinder block and down into a dirty weedy alley. Ah. The simple life. When I spent all my money on rent, clothing, and just enough food to keep me alive. Of course as a fag hag my gay would take me out to eat all the time. Sweet.