A Vacuum Does Not Suck, It Is Suck

That's my quasi-Zen for the week, and that's how I'm feeling: I'm living in a special vacuum all my own.

I've had two interviews in the last month, which is a bountiful harvest in this job market. One was with Thibiant International, which was about three weeks ago. I still haven't heard from them, so I sent an e-mail Monday to their HR person and have yet to get an answer back.

The second interview (the one I didn't want to jinx) was an interview with Variety. My heart still leaps a little when I type the word.

For those of you who don't know, Variety is the daily trade publication that, until recently, was in direct competition with the Hollywood Reporter. Now that the latter publication has gone rather Us Weekly, Variety is really the only daily covering the entertainment industry.

The job they were advertising is pretty much exactly what I was doing at the Reporter, so it would be like picking up where I left off, careerwise, with a better publication.

I've followed up with a couple e-mails making additional comments I forgot to make during the interview and telling them how good a fit I would be and how much I want the job. Not obsequious, you understand, but with genuine ardor.

The interview was about a week and a half ago, and I'm anxiously awaiting their final decision. I sent their HR person an e-mail on Monday, too, and got an immediate reply: they're still interviewing. And I'm thinking to myself, without feeling vain, "Why? You've found the person you should hire: Me."

These are both really good prospects and jobs I'm confident I could excel at, and my greatest fear is that, like with McGraw-Hill earlier this year, something's going to fall through and I'll end up back at Square One. That's a real anxiety-provoker for me. "My God," I'm thinking, wringing my mental hands, "Am I ever going to get another job, much less one that will further my career?"

As meditation, I imagine sitting with Steve on a pleasant, sunny day years from now, maybe in rocking chairs on a porch, all wrinkled and blissed out in our retirement. I turn to him and say, "Remember when I was unemployed, back in aught-nine and ten? Sure was a rough patch, all right, what with mom and aunt Kit passing, too. Seemed like I'd never get through that."

And I concentrate on the peace and confidence I'll feel reflecting back on what's my current here and now. The only thing that makes the image ring hollow is the fact that I don't know how this "rough patch" is going to resolve itself. And, being an American, I want to know everything and I want to know it now.

To mitigate all the anxiety of waiting, I cull the job postings online (Fritz Perls said anxiety is just excitement you feel compelled to repress). Of course, this would be one of those weeks where nothing new or appropriate for me is being listed, so I don't even have sending out resumes as a way to fill this vacuum.

Speaking of vacuums, we picked up a canister vacuum to use on the bamboo floors because the upright we had wasn't cutting it. (I refuse to say that it sucked.) The exhaust blows out the front of the upright and kicks up all the dust you're trying to pick up.

The new one is small, weighs only about nine pounds and is easy to carry around. It works really well, especially on the stairs. Since we're in kind of a lull in the remodeling, I'm finding housework an adequate substitute diversion to interior design planning.

So send up your prayers that the good people at Variety see what a catch they'd have in hiring me and, God willing, that I'll have something superblastastic to celebrate for Thanksgiving next week: the blessing of a new job.

And even if a new job hasn't arrived, I still have lots and lots of stuff to be thankful for, as do we all … it's just nice to able to pick the ones that really make you feel thankful.