100 Career Choices for Allison

Okay, by "career choices" I really mean "something I considered for a nanosecond at least once in my life." And somewhere around number 63, I started getting desperate. Fair warning.

1. Researcher
2. Admissions Counselor
3. Career Counselor
4. English Teacher
5. Travel Writer
6. School Psychologist
7. Marriage and Family Therapist
8. Children's Novelist
9. Actress
10. Bookstore Owner (actually, I just want to be Audrey Hepburn's character in Funny Face)
    
11. Archaeologist
12. Children's Broadcasting Something
13. PR
14. Grant Writer
15. School Librarian
16. Guidance Counselor
17. Children's Party Planner (I have references!)
18. Movie Critic (just for the free movies)
19. Ice Cream Taster
20. Sitcom Writer
    
21. Mom
22. Non-profit Administration
23. Astronomer
24. Dramaturg
25. Book Critic
26. Blogger
    
27. Dessert Critic (I originally wrote desert critic, but then I realized I hate sand)
28. Florist
29. Closet Organizer
30. Student
31. Dolphin Trainer
32. SNL Cast Member
    
33. FLW Scholar
34. Gallery Owner
35. Editor
36. Campaign Advisor (social psych in action!)
37. Professor
38. Peace Corps
39. Social Worker
40. Translator (just need to learn a language first)
    
41. Children's Theater Owner
42. Camp Counselor
43. The Person at the Zoo Who Shows Off Chinchillas and Arctic Foxes to Large Groups
44. Docent
45. Independent Counselor
46. Student Affairs
47. YWCA
48. Elementary School Teacher
49. Game Show Contestant
50. Late-Night TV Psychic
51. Drama Teacher
52. Jewel Thief (because I'm so graceful and nimble...)
53. Detective (perhaps in combination with #50)
54. Carny
55. Foreign Dignitary
56. Petting Zoo Owner
57. Pumpkin Patch Owner
58. Art Dealer
59. Coffee Shop Owner
60. Mediator
61. Snowball Stand Owner (If you don't know what a snowball is... I'm so sorry for you.)
62. Script Supervisor
63. Spy (specifically Harriet the)
64. Pilot
65. House Sitter to the Stars
66. Tour Guide (somewhere awesome)
67. Stage Manager
68. Ghost Buster
69. Symbologist
70. Pediatrician
71. Pen Pal
72. Anthropologist
73. Life Coach
74. Stand-In
75. Photographer
    
76. Butterfly Hunter
77. Peyton Manning's Trophy Wife
78. Antiques Dealer
79. Stamp Collector
80. Person Who Does Dubbing for Foreign Films
81. Disney Theme Park Character
82. Archivist
83. Neil Patrick Harris' Trophy Anything
84. Hot Air Balloon Operator
85. Language Teacher (still need to learn a language)
    
86. Rare Book Collector
87. Person Who Writes Those College Guides That Sixteen-Year-Olds and Their Parents Think Are Bibles
    
88. IKEA Spokesperson
89. Crossword Puzzle Creator
90. Newscaster
91. Diner Owner
    
92. PSA Writer
93. Loch Ness Monster Investigator
94. Film Historian
95. Person Who Drives Cars Across the Country
96. Shoe Designer
97. Corporate Trainer
    
98. Trivia Host
99. Advice Columnist
100. Troubadour

Assessment to follow.

The List

A conversation with the roommate after she takes a bath:

K-- Hey, remember when you almost didn't graduate because you just stopped caring about your thesis? [Don't worry, mom... she's very prone to exaggeration]
A-- Yeah...
K-- Why was that? Didn't you really like your thesis?
A-- Yeah, I did. Then I got really busy and it was like, "Screw you, project I've been working on for a year." Why?
K-- I was just thinking about your life and what you should do with it.
A-- So... you were thinking about me when you were taking a bath?
K-- I just don't see how you could do anything other than career counseling. I mean, really.

This all happened roughly 15 minutes ago, when I was about to do a blog post about... what did she call it? My life and what I can do with it. (Okay, the post-bathtub dialogue was paraphrased.) Keri and I were talking about everything the other day... existential angst, quarter-life crisis, blah blah blah. (I know, what else is new?) She read somewhere that a great exercise in determining what you want to be when you grow up is listing 100 jobs you'd like to have, no matter how unrealistic or insane. I really wanted to try it. And, as a gratuitous blogger, I figured I would post the list on here.

Problems: 1. I got to 40-something jobs and got stuck. Keri says I'm being too picky. I brought the list to work, since there's no better inspiration for long-term career goals than a day where you make 400 phone calls and don't have a meaningful conversation with anyone. Which leads us to... 2. I'm pretty sure the list is somewhere in the vast pile of papers on my desk. Probably. 3. What the hell, universe? Is this some sort of omen that I decide to do an exercise to uncover my ideal career, and then leave it at my current place of employment? What's your game?

So the post will have to wait until I retrieve the list and finish it properly. I don't want to try to recreate it, since the order in which I thought of jobs would be scrambled and misleading. But for the record, ice cream taster would probably rank around number 8 right now.

Of Emotion

No matter how I feel at the beginning of a work day, I normally feel differently by the end of the day. I'm finding that a phone job is way more of a roller coaster than I expected. In no particular order, my week:

• Bitch from Oklahoma. She answers, I tell her who it is, she hangs up. I call back, she picks up and hangs up. I call back, same. Repeat two more times. I call, she answers, I say "I guess this means you're not interested?" She snaps, "Well, I don't hang up for nothin'!" and hangs up. This was during a really slow morning. I wanted to fight. My biggest regret is that I actually removed her from the database. I should not be rewarding that kind of behavior. (To the Bitch from Oklahoma, this is how it should have gone: "I don't know you got my information, but I'm not interested. Can you take me off your list? I feel slightly inconvenienced, but I understand that you're just trying to do your job. And I understand that throwing a tantrum like a three-year-old is counter-productive, because obviously I'm intelligent enough to realize that you can't actually remove me from the system without me saying so. By the way, you sound like a very nice person. I wish I were nice, but I suffered emotionally from my parent's divorce and my sister's dalliance with prescription medications, so I tend to take it out on other people. I don't have a lot of stable relationships.") ...okay, clearly I'm still really resentful about the Bitch from Oklahoma. I might reactivate her in the system.
  
• Application number two! A really great woman (who is roughly 1.5 years older than me, but no matter) who basically called the school because she wanted to enroll. We talked, we apped. She was totally fine with starting classes in a week. One more form left, and she'll be good to go!
  
• I may or may not but definitely did ask my supervisor if I could go in today to get my students ready for Monday. But since I haven't graduated from the pod I'm not allowed to get overtime. Instead all of my coworkers are at the office and I'm checking my work email constantly to make sure my students didn't get in touch with me and don't need anything.
  
• A student answers the phone, "Yeah... I read some reviews of your school online and I changed my mind." I google said reviews. Yikes. The thing is, the reviews were not bad because our school specifically sucks. The reviews were mostly individuals who had bad experiences with transfer of credit or finding a job (yeah, whatever, I've heard pretty passionate complaints about my alma mater, too... and even more complaints from the world in general about finding a job...). But hearing people call everyone in the company a crook? That was rough. For-profit schools have been controversial since their creation. I know this. I had reservations going into this job because I couldn't resign myself to the idea of schools as a company. So reading this I'm feeling awful and blah blah blah... existential stuff... etc...
• The next day, a bunch of people from my pod class were discussing the web site as well as a lawsuit our company is involved in right now. Everyone is upset about it. Sometimes it's nice to reinforce that we're all in this job because we like helping people make life-changing decisions. Regardless of what we may think about the decision. The fact is, in any business people can get corrupted. That doesn't mean everyone and everything about it is bad. (Seriously, I could go on and on, but this is definitely not a soapbox for or against the industry.)
  
• Applicant number 3. Monday I take my test. Hopefully I pass so I can graduate from the pod.
  

It's harder to explain in retrospect, but even though I feel like I've hit my stride at work, I've been thinking a lot about what I'll do when I leave this job. This is my first real post-collegiate job, but at what point do I start transitioning into my career? At what point do I know what career I want? The roommate made a suggestion I'm trying out. More on that later.

Progress?

So remember how I've been talking to students for two weeks and haven't gotten anyone to apply? And remember how I mentioned (if I did... if not, just pretend so I can use parallel structure) that literally 3/4 of my training class has already gotten 3+ applications and graduated from the pod and moved on to their actual teams? And remember how I definitely was not but also definitely and completely was freaking out about this? Okay, just making sure we're on the same page.

At the end of last week our pod director pulled the only other non-apper (it's a word...) to the side and gave feedback on why he wasn't getting apps. (Although reports vary, it appears that the other non-apper's issue was a hesitance to abandon his old sales background and incorporate what he had learned in training.) I've been wondering why the director hadn't pulled me aside yet to figure out what the hell I'm doing wrong. Waiting for criticism is a funny thing; I knew I needed it, but who actually wants it? Today I finally got pulled aside. In ten words, here's my basic issue: I'm delightful, but don't take control of the conversation. Wait, that was nine words... Okay: I'm delightful, but don't take control of the conversation. Fail. There we go! Sadly, this wasn't news to me, but I've been having issues connecting "I need to be more aggressive" with "This is how I can be more aggressive." So he role played with me (I know, everything about this job sounds dirty) and said that once I actually get an app my confidence will go up and that will help me greatly. Then the most ominous of all meeting closers: "We'll see how you're doing in a few weeks and go from there."

Four phone calls later, I apped.

Remember me?

I will be the first to admit that I fail at having a real job. I mean, why is 40 hours a week so freaking exhausting? I go to work, come home, and it's basically an immediate coma for me.

For the past two weeks I've been on the phone with students. No apps as of yet. (I'm going to be calm and rational about it in the blogosphere and pretend that I haven't been whining to the roommate and boyfriend every single day.) In my group of twelve, ten people have applications and six have met the requirements to graduate from the pod. I, however, find myself settling into my temporary cubicle more and more each day. I know it will happen eventually, I just hate waiting for that "student in a haystack" as one of my coworkers calls it. Honestly, I would probably be much more okay with my lack of apps if half my training class weren't moving on. I love my training class. Everyone is awesome. But now they're all moving on to their real teams and I'll have to move on to mine eventually, too. Lamesauce.

In addition to the work frustrations, Keri and I have had some delightful house drama lately that is hilarious... except that it's also completely distracting and ridiculous. Basically every single family on the block who currently rents has decided they want to buy our house. Family number one backed out after Keri and I were approved for an apartment. Days later another family wanted to take a look. So we're currently in a limbo of looking at places just in case, but not getting terribly invested in the search lest things fall through again. I hate looking for houses. Loathe, actually. You know how you're supposed to compromise with other people so everyone can be happy? I'm having issues finding things I like, let alone factoring in Keri's wish list. And I swear it's harder looking at houses now that we've been living here for a while. Compromise doesn't even begin to cover it. I'm starting to feel that Keri and I might as well get married, because there is no way I'm ever doing this with another human being ever. Too much thought. But if anyone knows of a 2-3 bedroom single family home in the Squirrel Hill area with a dishwasher and laundry... let me know.

My computer is going to die soon. I wanted to post something epic, but for now I will just settle on actually posting anything at all. For next time: students who try to save your soul, inappropriate ringback tones, and how to personalize paper cranes for all your coworkers.

...I really wish I were joking about the soul-saving thing.

For Reals

I will post something when I get home from work tonight. I will post something when I get home from work tonight. I will post something when I get home from work tonight. Unless I'm too tired. I will post something when I get home from work tonight. I will post something when I get home from work tonight. Seriously, why are grown-up jobs so exhausting? I want to take a billion naps a day. I will post something when I get home from work tonight. How do people with kids do it? I will post something when I get home from work tonight. I will post something when I get home from work tonight.

Faaaaaiiiiiiiillllllllllllll

Originally I thought this post would contain some awesome photos of Kentuck Knob, a Frank Lloyd Wright house I dragged the boyfriend to on his weekend visit. However, I forgot my camera, the boyfriend forgot the memory card for his, and (oh, yeah) I semi-almost fainted in the middle of the tour and had to leave. Seriously. My face would have been so red... except apparently I was white as a sheet. Basically, we walked through the living room and dining room and kitchen, all of which were completely fascinating in a "Who lives here?" kind of way. Felt fine. Then we went down a narrow hallway to the master bedroom. Small, stuffy, and ridiculously hot. Next thing you know my vision goes blurry and I'm grabbing onto the boyfriend for support, and then I'm on the terrace sitting on a bench. Awesome. The truly disappointing part (besides being completely embarrassed and mortified and frustrated that I spent a gajillion dollars on a tour I didn't even get to enjoy) is (as the boyfriend told me later) someone called out, "Get her on the bed!" but then (I'm just assuming this was the timeline) an older tourguide came in and told him to take me outside. I came so close to laying on a bed in a Frank Lloyd Wright house! So close.

Tomorrow we're going to see the Stanley Cup downtown. Fun fact: apparently it's not just a random trophy that no one could possibly care about enough to line up for hours. It's the same trophy. I think it makes more sense now... my emotional connection to sports is pretty much nonexistent unless it involves Denzel Washington or Sandra Bullock.

Now that my first week of work is over, I'm still trying to get my head around the job. More accurately, I'm still trying to get my head around how well I'll do in the job. Admissions rep? I can totally do that. But salesy admissions rep with quotas and a cubicle? Who knows. Apparently only 50% of trainees graduate from "the pod" in two weeks... the rest have to stay until they reach a preliminary quota. I am begging you, o creator of the universe and any other force I could possibly appeal to, please let me graduate in time. I don't want to be in "the pod." It doesn't sound like a fun place. According to my supervisor, I have a very soft and soothing phone voice that will help put nervous students at ease. I'm not sure how much I agree with that, but whatever works to my advantage, right? To be on the safe side, I'm offering every student a pony if they enroll. I'm all about the incentives.