I think not. (A job search response.)

It turns out that vast irritation can spark motivation to post.

First, a weekend story. Feeling a bit under the weather and stressed about my first “key deliverable,” I decided to go ahead and make the trip to my parents’ yesterday morning rather than Friday evening. Rather than the day of travel I would have faced in my post-doctoral location, I hopped in my pretty, new car – that I can afford because I work in industry and make actual money – and zipped down interstates for a couple hours to arrive in the house where I spent my childhood.

Dad and I chatted a bit before I opened my laptop to work on my presentation. We didn’t have much to discuss, frankly, since he was just at my house to watch the puppy while I traveled and stayed to assist in the purchase of the pretty car. Instead of staring at each other and wondering where to start catching up, he asked if there was anything new with the restructuring at work or if my neighbor’s dog was feeling any better since he was sick a couple days ago. Instead of a vague, “I wonder if Katie’s OK. She likes us to call on Sunday so we’ll wait to bother her then,” there’s the sense that we know each other again. Given that they were married 10 years before having me, I’ve spent days sitting by hospital beds, terrified that I’d lose Dad in college and Mom last year. Plus, frustrating as they can be, I’m rather fond of my folks. I like – no, I love – being close to them.

“I love you,” Little One smiled up at me as we sat on the same side of the table for dinner. I leaned down to kiss her nose, said, “I love you,” and in that moment – defined by cheesy potatoes and sippy cups of strawberry milk and a tiny book of preschool trivia questions we were reading together – I felt like I was in exactly the right place doing exactly what was most important.

That, for me, is happiness. I love teasing Ken about how his head is constantly ducked over a Blackberry as he wanders the office. I sit shoulder to shoulder with my boss when we discuss three year plans and current literature reviews. I felt the oddest sense of accomplishment when I sat – in a pale pink sweater, no less – in a room with 15 men as they gave presentations of their work and left me to decide which ones were worthy of more attention. On that same trip, Denise called mid-dog/pony show to ask if I was OK. “Traveling,” I reported happily, touched that she’d checked up on me and that my colleagues back home were disturbed at my absence. I like motioning people through the door of my office and answering questions or offering advice. I really love what I do. I adore where I do it.

And I got here by looking for over a year at academic and industrial positions located within a certain radius of where I grew up.

I have a rule when blogging – don’t tell people what to do. The assumption that one person knows what’s best for many is, well, laughable first and has the lingering problem of being powerfully obnoxious. So while I’m sure I’ve broken that rule – I’m good/annoying like that – it’s something I try to keep in mind. Hence my fondness for stories. I applied for only a few jobs over the course of 14 months and, after a great deal of profound stress and with not much time left to find something, got the one I wanted. Would I advocate doing the same? Not necessarily. It really depends on what you want and how you’d like to get it.

This is why, despite a bit (a very tiny bit, at the moment) of affection of PhysioProf, I rarely read what he writes. The overly certain ‘I’m so right and you’re a fucking wackaloon! [Insert ‘eleventy,’ some combination of exclamation points and ones, or a word some LOLcat thinks is teh awesome.]’ bugs the hell out of me. So I ignore it – seems easiest. So it was with some surprise and instant suspicion that I saw Dr. Brazen Hussy’s follow up post to one that seemed pretty clear to me about her job search strategy. With narrowed eyes, I clicked over and began to shake my head as I skimmed through text.

My response can be summarized thusly – Bad Fucking Form. If I need to elaborate, I can do that too.

1. We all blog – that puts everybody on equally shaky ‘crazy’ ground.


2. I must apply? Must? By the decree of PhysioProf? Please.


3. The job ad is a guide – I can buy that in some circumstances. But if something in there – whether it’s location or reputation or housing costs or choice of collaborations and colleagues – makes me wrinkle my nose? I’m not dealing with the time and stress involved with pretending an interest I don’t feel when I could do work, go on vacation or drink.


4. Practice is great. I’d personally practice somewhere I actually wanted to work and give myself credit for years of training and previous interview experience, but I’m apparently crazy like that.
   
5. Offers can trigger other offers and they can give you a stronger negotiating position. If you don’t want to take any of the jobs that are available, I fail to see how this helps you out. For example, I did get the California offer due, in part, to the Industry offer I finally took. But I didn't want the California job so it just added stress, confusion, a couple of weeping fits and delayed the time until the Californians could find the right person to fill the role. How was that helpful?
   

BH did a beautiful job in explaining her reasoning behind her choices - I realize she didn't require my assistance. I also appreciate that pointing to a specific person can open important dialogues into various topics. I simply think such approaches can be handled in a non-wildly-fucking-annoying way. So. BH, may you find a job you love in a place you adore with colleagues who are smart, funny and have access to high quality alcohol. I wish you every single happiness and a job search with as little stress and pain as possible - in whatever way you decide to conduct it.