How it feels to be wanted
I got my first rejection letter yesterday. I never mentioned it, because, in the heat of the moment… well, I forgot, but I couple of weeks back I sent out a bunch of job applications. Two were to libraries, one was for a desk job at Strathclyde University’s modern languages department, and the other was to an online firm, Prospect Solution, where I will (hopefully) be writing essays, doing proofreading, and so on. (Hell, supply and demand - if people are willing to pay for it, I’m willing to do it!) I recently got a preliminary acceptance email for the Prospect Solution gig, but am holding off until the results for my MLitt come in before I send them my full details. In any event, it may turn out that it’s something that brings in little work and money, so I need to keep my options open.
Anyway, yesterday morning I got a rejection letter from the Glasgow School of Art’s library. “Dear Mr. Mackenzie, thanks for your application, but we regret to inform you that bla bla bla…” It’s fair enough, I suppose, and I’m all too aware that rejections are a necessary part of the process, but I wish that, in these circumstances, they would give some indicator of why you were turned down. Something like “Dear Mr. Mackenzie, there are other people better qualified than you,” or “Dear Mr. Mackenzie, we saw the picture that you included on your CV and would never employ someone has grotesque as yourself.” Then again, experience has taught me that employers have a habit of trying to let you down gently when they decide they don’t want you. I do, after all, speak with the experience of someone who is one of the few people ever to have been turned away by McDonalds. Much to my relief, I might add, but the spotty-faced deputy manager who interviewed me was typically cagey as to his reasons for rejecting me. He said something along the lines of “I don’t think you’d be right for McDonalds,” which I suspect is polite talk for “You wouldn’t last a minute in front of a deep fat fryer,” or “I actually wanted someone to work from midnight to 8 AM, but you weren’t having it.” Either way, it was a narrow escape.
Sorry, I seem to have gone a little off topic. Anyway, onwards and upwards. I’ll no doubt be firing off a fresh batch of applications before too long. And until someone offers me a job, I’m actually quite enjoying the unexpected leisure time. It’s allowing me to catch up on some of the things I like to do, namely writing reviews, watching movies and trawling my way through Season 7 of Buffy. Although, in the case of the latter, “like to do” is perhaps a bit of a stretch.