I filled out a job application today for a three month temporary position as a clerical worker. It's an entry-level civil service job. If ever there was a position that was a foot in the door at a desirable workplace, this one was it. However, if ever there was a waste of paper, envelope and postage to send in an application, this was it, too.
I rule myself out as the prime candidate or even in the top ten for a few reasons. The first is my timing. I didn't find out about this gig until today, which is Day 6 of a 10-day filing period. Even if I drove it to the personnel office and placed it into the initial set of reviewing hands for the position, I would still likely be Applicant #203, given that the average entry-level job has about 200 people interested in it. I have every prerequisite bit of knowledge and expertise they're looking for, but so do at least half of the people applying, with at least half of those with a better looking resume than mine.
Then, there's my work history. If my resume could talk, it would sound like a broken record. Every job title I've had since 1994 has had "Medical Transcriptionist" somewhere in the wording. Well, the ones I can list, anyway. There are the some short-term jobs that didn't include transcription, the ones that involved proofreading, database building, creating correspondence and brochures, writing copy, etc. that look wonderful, but aren't verifiable; one person has passed away, two would rather not be listed as an employer, one refused because it turned out I was doing his job, etc. So, there's this repetitive job title and description which appear on all my job applications, 100% of my short resume and 75% of the longer version which most employers don't want to see because a) it's ancient history and b) all the other jobs are on that second page rarely looked at. When they see that sea of transcription, many wondered, either silently or aloud, why I applied because they don't have a transcriptionist position open. Never mind that transcription involves word processing and/or data entry. At this point, I sort of know how an actor playing a role type over and over feels when they try to break out of it and can't. I've been stereotyped, pigeon-holed, categorized and relegated to being able to do just one thing. Granted, I do it really well, but my self-esteem, not to mention my checkbook, needs to be considered for other things, thank you.
Then, there's my age. I am 56. That gentle age, which is only 9 years from qualifying for Social Security and Medicare, is teetering on the edge of the ageism trap. Youth rules, despite what employers say and are required by law to ignore. However, if I'm up against a woman who has a similar skill set, educational background, work history and personality, but is 10-30 years younger than I am, guess who's more likely to get the position? By the way, if I've just made a fellow female who's 46 happy by calling her young, you're welcome.
So, despite my putting best foot forward yet again, I suspect the application I just printed, signed and mailed will be looked at briefly and then ignored for the duration. So, why bother sending it in at all? Hope. It springs eternal in me. I believe that good things come to those who persist and then patiently wait. I also still believe that someone might look at my blog and think I write goodly enough to hire me on as a reporter or columnist. Yup, I can still dream big even as I now find myself applying to wait tables again after 40 years.
... because sometimes, dreams really do come true.
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