A Type A Dilemma [guest post]

By Cazey Williams, guest blogger I intern remotely for a consulting company and have to log 20 hours/week. The best/worst part about this arrangement is, I set my own hours – which is an overwhelming proposition. While I have flexibility, I also have to commit to when I set those hours, and, like most millennials, I am a commitmentphobe. Every week I email my boss when I’ll be working, and every time I feel like Ariel giving away my voice. What if I want it back?

Why am I telling you this? Because my hours aren’t actually an exact 20 hours/week. They just have to average 20 hours over a month. So at the end of August, I had worked enough overtime that I only needed to work (wait for it) 13.5 hours. *hand raise emoji*

I happen to plan my life down to details like needing to cut my fingernails. (For real, in college, I would put on my daily to-do list “Drink water.”) So this week I happen to know I have too much going on to comfortably fit in my 20 hours. You type B’ers may say, “Well, I have the rest of the month.” But a person who schedules when they’re going to get their daily dose of hydrogen and oxygen cannot be reassured by that thought. No, no, it’s the beginning of the month; I should frontload my schedule, so at the end of September I can relax aka work less than 20 hours. It would not do to work less than 20 hours this week. (Plus, the rest of my September is sorta popping out of its jeans, so I’m already anxious about other weeks.) The point is, I have to work 20 hours this week.

So I told my boss that I would work this past weekend. On Friday I submitted my 14.75 hours for August (even worked a little more than my necessary 13.5 hours) and volunteered to work on Sunday and Monday (today, Labor Day) and then normal hours on Tuesday throughThursday. Why is this important? Because I’m sacrificing my three-day weekend. But I will not be under 20 hours at the end of this week, so I can breathe without a paper bag on Friday when my friend visits. (I’ve never actually done that – used a paper bag, that is.)

Except. Pause. What was yesterday? Yes, Sunday. But what was the date? Yes, exactly. Fucking exactly. August 31.

I DIDN’T NEED TO WORK.

Can we repeat, I didn’t need to work?

And when did I realize this? Well, yesterday, on August 31, I woke up, declined brunch invitations, worked out, declined an invitation to go the river and lay out, and put on my watch (which has the bloody date – mind you, so does my cell phone, which I’ve been looking at since I woke up) and headed to my neighborhood Starbucks. I found the perfect window seat – like, I had sunlight to mimic that tan I turned down – ordered a Trenta (which, this is a future blog post, is a big deal because I only drink coffee two or three times a week) that set me back $4.51 (pumpkin spice in it, baby – because I thought it was September), and I logged onto my work computer. And that, ladies and gents, is when I saw the date.

I knew Friday was August 29. And Saturday was August 30. How did I forget 31 days has August? BUT HOW?

And so now you, the reader, thinks, “Well then, just pack up and go home.” But – but – but there is a big project due to a client on Tuesday, and unless I slaved away on Sunday, August 31, the project wouldn’t be done in time. (And I could have just worked longer hours today on Labor Day, but I felt that would be too much labor on my faux holiday.)

Insert gun emoji. Insert bomb emoji. Insert an emoji that just can’t express all my feelings.

So where did all this leave me? Sitting facing the sunlight through a window, simultaneously drafting this rant while devising a Facebook status that succinctly describes this FML situation and will earn a satisfactory amount of likes, texting my friend if she’s left for the river yet, listening to a girl order an "extra hot" latte on a 90-degree day, and sakjhkdsjhdslkhdglkghdgsd.

Stalemate, baby. Stalemate.

Happy Labor Day.

How to Not Get a Job

Since I work in a company of three, I get to do the job I was hired for, plus other random jobs, such as recruiting! I spent Friday at my very first school's recruiting fair as an employer. I went to multiple back when I was in college, but I was exceptionally excited to be back at a fair as an employer. I was imagining flocks of people shoving their way to my table and rushing to hand in a resume. It was nothing like that. We got some great candidates, and we got a few who are perfect examples of what not to say to potential employers. Here's a list of real things real college students said to us while we were at the career fair that made me wonder if they understand how to get a job:

  • The very first person we talked to told us she was a marketing student and then we explained our company and she goes, "Facebook? So anyone can do this job." Maybe don't trivialize a company's job when you are trying to hand in your resume.
  • "I've never heard of your company. What can you do for me?" Ballsy. If her tone was a bit softer, that might have actually worked, but as she said it like she was entitled to get a job, I made a mental note that she was too pretentious to actually make me want to employ her. She also clearly didn't do her research like lots of her peers did, so she already distinguished herself as not as committed as her competition.
  • "I already have a plan for when I graduate, but I thought this could be a good backup." I appreciate the fact that this girl is honest, but why in God's name are you walking around essentially telling companies that you don't really want to work for them, but if their plan A falls through, you could be their plan B? No one is going to want to follow up with you if you are not ranking them a priority.
  • "I still don't see the value of my college education." This wasn't insulting in any way, shape, or form to me or the company I work for, but it is a huge slap in the face to the school he is currently attending, which is a prestigious school that people would die to go to. If he is willing to walk around insulting the education provided to him, I am sure he would do the same about our company if he was hired. Even beyond that, I greatly value my college education and if we are that fundamentally different on our views of education, it may be an indicator that we would not see eye to eye in the working world either.
  • "I just came from class so I don't have a resume and didn't see what your company is about." I understand having class, but you knew the career fair was today. They didn't announce it this morning and hope people would show up. Show some initiative and plan ahead, especially your outfit. This girl showed up wearing short shorts with her underwear showing, a cami on, and horrible tan lines. There was nothing professional or employable from her showing up not dressed and totally unprepared.
  • I wish I could quote this next exchange because it was hilarious, but I essentially do not even know what happened. We listed ourselves as not being able to hire international students (as we look to hire interns as a way to raise a future full-time employee and international students typically are not long-term options) and the conversation started off with the kid saying that he was an international student that wanted to talk to us anyways, even though he knew we listed as not having positions available. Then he had an unrelated major and no relevant work experience. I could hardly understand him, so I let my co-worker speak to him, and then he got frustrated and said something about how we need to find a way to involve more majors. Then he still didn't leave, so my co-worker told him more about our company and he said something about it not aligning with want he wants. AND HE STILL DIDN'T LEAVE. If you are pointing out that your needs and the company's needs do not align, why are you still wasting everyone's time standing there asking more questions? No matter how long you stand there, new positions outside of our needs are not going to materialize.

As Forest Gump said, "Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you are going to get." Career fairs are just like that too. You never know if that student approaching is going to be absolutely nuts or totally sweet.