What it's like to look for full-time work for two years

Bleak.

This is Bally. He watches me watches me apply to — and not get — jobs.

Right now, I’m watching my son’s basketball practice. The second graders are in a line and they’re supposed to back-to-back shoot from the free throw line. The drill moves quickly, so they miss almost every shot. Just again and again, the ball bounces off the rim and not into it or it just flies somewhere in the general direction of the basket.

Finally, a kid sinks a shot. They look happy, and it makes me think of all the resumes and cover letters I’ve sent out over the past two years. All the chats with and DMs to strangers at places I’m applying in an effort to get ahead enough to get an interview in what is the worst job market I’ve ever experienced. And I realize that if I got a job right now, I would not feel an inkling of the joy that a child feels making a basket.

As a freelance journalist, I used to pitch editors ideas and get rejected regularly. I felt a sting. But after this much time on the job hunt, being mostly ignored, the sting is gone. It’s probably not a good thing, though it is a bit of a relief.

I used to have a good career as a freelance writer and editor, but now I’m just barely getting by on less consistent and lower-paying contracts. I’ve had to apply for full-time work in spurts when my workload is lower. But it’s almost necessary to take breaks from the rejection for ego reasons. Like I may not feel a sting, but there is a general feeling of worthlessness that persists.

While writing each cover letter, I have to convince myself I love this job, I want this job, because that’s the goddamn point of a cover letter. “And that’s why I want to work with you.” And then you never hear back. It’s such an exhausting manipulation. I’ve had multiple rounds of interviews — trying and sometimes failing to keep up my energy, round after round, speaking with like seven people over a video call. Answering the same stupid questions that require you to “remember a time when” demonstrates nothing about your ability to do a job. And then they don’t even write to tell you they hired someone else. Why would I want to work at a place that treats people so poorly?

Honestly, more than three rounds of interviews is absurd. You can interview someone night and day for weeks and they could still leave a year after you hire them. In fact, if you’re performing exhaustive interviews that go on and on, you probably suck and people won’t want to stay.

I’m actually excited by probably only one in every 10 jobs I’ve applied to, so I get that maybe I am not the right person for those other roles. Full-time work is not always appealing, and honestly I would have liked to just continue to work on steady, decent-paying contracts. AI has played a negative role in shifting the kinds of work that’s out there for writers, the expectations of these roles, the demand for contracted writers, and what they pay — it’s not sustainable anymore.

Changing careers at this point in the game is proving a way bigger challenge than I could have imagined. The market is crazy congested and no one wants to hire me for a role I’ve never done before but could do. New legislation, this big hideous bill, will close down a lot of options for people seeking work, maybe not today, but soon. I was looking at the healthcare industry, but no longer. I might have even continued the contractor hustle at lower pay if I thought Obamacare was safe. It allowed so many like myself to pursue less traditional career structures.

I am very grateful to have been able to do value-aligned work that I enjoy for so long, so maybe I shouldn’t complain. But I have hit every elder millennial/Xennial road bump along the way. When we saw the planes hit the Twin Towers, I was in graduate school for religious studies. It’s almost laughable now, but in 2001, the Clinton economy was still in effect, and there were jobs for people with religion degrees. Needless to say, it took me awhile to get a full-time job once I completed my coursework.

Then in 2008, I was laid off from Miami Children’s Museum because I made a whopping $35,000 as the grant writer, more than much of the staff. It took me 15 months to get another full-time job. I remember I was so worn down at that point that I felt no joy when I was hired at Miami City Ballet. It was not a wonderful gig, and I eventually left to work in journalism, a struggling industry where I was paid very little and less than the men.

The loss of my steady gigs two years ago really was a slow roll back into that sort of shocking liminal space of un- or under-employment. You’re mentally doing the doggy paddle in deep waters, waves of rejection slapping your inbox. Sometimes you just have to take breaks to float on your back and feel the rise and fall of the process. Then back to the hard, thankless work of trying to find work. It’s a struggle to not lose yourself.

But I am not alone. Many other job-seekers are out here doing our little mental gymnastics to get the cover letters in on time and convince ourselves “this is the one!” We’re trying to be strategic about what careers or industries to pursue next despite all of the changes in government spending and AI development that make it impossible to assess. I don’t know much about the future of work in this country, but I do know that whatever I end up doing it will reflect a larger trend for the people in my generation.