I came across this NY Times article, “Jobs Wanted, Any Jobs At All” that focused on the day-to-day of Kristie and Katie Barry, 17 months out of university and jobless. Though one is not technically unemployed (she’s just partially employed), she described her bartending gig as “dating a guy you know you’re not going to marry.”
I understand. I've been a phone girl, focus groupie, convention booth hottie and (my favorite) a beer marketer: studying the drinkability of America’s premium draft light beer. Real jobs? They were real to me. They all paid an average of $20.00 an hour but they were all gigs. What my parents would call a “real” job, is a 9-5er, Mondays to Fridays where you're on an actual payroll and they took sweet, sweet taxes out of your paycheck every fortnight.
My first proper job out of college was as a Client Care Coordinator for a now defunct health and wellness company that specialized in hypnotherapy. Yup. It was one of “those” new agey things. Basically a glorified office assistant, I greeted clients and ensured they were comfortably tucked beneath a warm blankey on leather recliners while receiving light and audio therapy. Dealing with subliminal messages of relaxation followed by piercing red strobing lights on your eyelids was not my idea of fun and I decided to resign from the place after witnessing some unsavory business practices.
That evening, I dined with friends at Don Quixote and cried into my lobster, thinking that it was the end of the world and I will never find a job again in this bad economy. The “bad economy” I was referring to, was the post 9-11 job market. I wanted to write but there were no jobs to be had anywhere.
It was just a stroke of luck that one of my friends suggested I joined her as a Real Estate Agent. I registered for the mandatory classes, passed the state exam, joined a brokerage and did my first deal 2 weeks into December, smack in the middle of the holidays.
I understand. I've been a phone girl, focus groupie, convention booth hottie and (my favorite) a beer marketer: studying the drinkability of America’s premium draft light beer. Real jobs? They were real to me. They all paid an average of $20.00 an hour but they were all gigs. What my parents would call a “real” job, is a 9-5er, Mondays to Fridays where you're on an actual payroll and they took sweet, sweet taxes out of your paycheck every fortnight.
My first proper job out of college was as a Client Care Coordinator for a now defunct health and wellness company that specialized in hypnotherapy. Yup. It was one of “those” new agey things. Basically a glorified office assistant, I greeted clients and ensured they were comfortably tucked beneath a warm blankey on leather recliners while receiving light and audio therapy. Dealing with subliminal messages of relaxation followed by piercing red strobing lights on your eyelids was not my idea of fun and I decided to resign from the place after witnessing some unsavory business practices.
That evening, I dined with friends at Don Quixote and cried into my lobster, thinking that it was the end of the world and I will never find a job again in this bad economy. The “bad economy” I was referring to, was the post 9-11 job market. I wanted to write but there were no jobs to be had anywhere.
It was just a stroke of luck that one of my friends suggested I joined her as a Real Estate Agent. I registered for the mandatory classes, passed the state exam, joined a brokerage and did my first deal 2 weeks into December, smack in the middle of the holidays.
While I keep at my writing, I get to market and sell beautiful homes in Manhattan which is in itself an exciting journey of expensive exotic woods, private roof cabanas and concierge service.
George Bernard Shaw said, “Life isn't about finding yourself; it's about creating yourself” and on that note, a word of advice to the lovely Barry twins: Keep at it. Step outside the box. There is tremendous opportunity on this island...
George Bernard Shaw said, “Life isn't about finding yourself; it's about creating yourself” and on that note, a word of advice to the lovely Barry twins: Keep at it. Step outside the box. There is tremendous opportunity on this island...
