Job Search should be a four letter word

Is there anything more absolutely self-depracating and inane as looking for a new job? I can tell you that it is no freaking picnic. Deciding that your old job is an absolute waste of a life is the easy part--hell everybody knows that. But finding a new gig is more fun than anything I can envision right now.
Let's take a look at the process, shall we? First, you take the plunge and decide that you are going to start the search--this is obviously the simplest part. All that you have to do at this point in the process is bring the idea of a new start to the table and most likely, based on the fact that something like 96.8% of us hate the job that we have grown accustomed to and it is easy to see why this is such a tempting endeavor. I remember when I was a freshman in college (yes, the first time--screw you Mr. and Mrs. Funny guy out there) and I would just have to think the word "Pizza" and I would have absolutely no control over my pituitary or my phone and within 30 minutes, one of those evil bastards would show up with a pie that I had no ability to afford and after three slices the remaining five pieces would end up in the same corner as the other forty boxes that were piled up in the dorm room and were a damn good substitute for real furniture. The desire for a new job is equally tempting, significantly more incredulous to one's reality, and impossibly more stupid when we actually make that decision. I mean a pizza is going to bounce a couple of checks, maybe get you a lecture from Gramma and Grampa G (who were still called Mom and Dad in those days of yore), probably attract more cockroaches--short-term pain, no doubt, but in the long-run, not the end of the world stuff.
Once you get that taste of leaving your job in your head, there is no escaping it. You cannot just all of a sudden reverse course and say, "You know what, this is crazy--I can turn things around here--it isn't so bad. Tomorrow I am going in and I am going to remember why I took this job in the first place. This place is a dream, and I am going to fight for what's mine." The only way those words come out of your mouth is if you just took a huge bong hit, are so high that nothing in the world can piss you off, and the only shard of sense you have left tells you that you can't pass the drug screen for another 30-45 days depending on who you believe (and there is no way you're going to get caught with one of those Whizzinators, because look at what it did to that guy from the Vikings--nobody cares that he got suspended for the season, but he will forever be remembered for the Whizzinator thing--I mean are you kidding me, you gotta be desperate--whoops, off track again). And believe me, after those 30 days (because at that point it's worth the risk--45 days my ass) you are right back where you were when you boldly prophesized your intention to turn this thing around--looking online for jobs, talking to everybody you know for just a sniff of the next opportunity, doing just enough to keep your lousy job until that crease of light shines its way from way down that dark empty tunnel.
In short, there is no escaping your eventual departure once you get it into your head. Things will be brighter this time around--you're going to find your way out of this God-forsaken industry once and for all and find something that you absolutely love. You remember those days when you used to get out of bed and get excited about where you worked. You could tell people with a sense of pride that you were a part of this or that organization and you took pleasure in the envy that you could see in their eyes. "Wow, what's it like working there? I hear that it is an amazing place!" You know damn well that the next job is going to be just like that again and you commit yourself to keeping all of your options open (except going back to the same thing ever again--no way you make that mistake for the umpteenth time). You bide your time and talk to people, never letting on at work that anything is wrong or that you have any intention of doing anything else ever again. In their eyes, this is your life for the foreseeable future and nobody has to know that the next decent offer that comes along will be your ticket to a life of pure bliss. There is no rush, just knowing that you are leaving at this point is enough to satiate your hunger. Knowing that you will have the ability to leave these bastards high and dry soon enough lets you walk around this tortured existence with a wry smile at all times. What they construe as happiness is nothing more than self-satisfaction that comes from knowing what they don't.
Over the next several months, as the reality of the job market begins to surface and all of those associates, friends and loved ones (who swore that they knew somebody who would absolutely have the perfect opportunity for somebody like you) begin to become more and more scarce when you actually ask them to let that somebody know that you are interested, you start to become less and less particular about the job. Remember, in your mind you're already gone--this job is over--you can't just turn back and go to work tomorrow morning and return to that life. Going through the motions and showing up every day is one thing, but actually trying to further your career at this empty, hollow, miserable existence is just not an option. You start making some calls and sounding more and more desperate, knowing full-well that the more desperate you sound, the harder it is going to be to find anything. It's like when you were single and you couldn't get a freaking phone number from the drunkest, most hideous girl at the skankiest bar in the worst part of town at closing time after you found out she was just released from the ladies penitentary up the road and hasn't had sex in 12 years. Then suddenly, three months later after some crazy, twisted random event you end up with a girlfriend and some random girl who you have been in love with for the past 10 years calls you out of the blue to tell you how sorry she was that you never asked her out and that her boyfriend had just left her and if you weren't doing anything, she would just love to see you. While this is going on, your girlfriend's best friend who is gorgeous comes over while she was out of town to watch a movie with you and she starts making eyes at you. This is life. When you don't need a job, everybody and their brother wants to hire you away, but the minute you are actually looking, suddenly you are riddled with leprousy and people can't get away from you fast enough.
As this reality becomes abundantly clear, you find yourself recognizing that if you are going to get away from this bastion of hell that is your daily existence, you might have to find something else in a business that you understand. Probably, you are going to have to take a job in the same industry, because you now have to get away from this place. Every day is more idiotic than the last. Suddenly, there isn't a soul in the entire place whose mere sight doesn't make your skin crawl--you are willing to take something you wouldn't have considered just a month ago, and before too long, you are willing to take damn near anything. It is about this time that word inevitably gets out that you are looking for another job, creating just one more layer of monotony to your already miserable existence. On one hand, you can be a little bit more open about your search, but on the other hand, the whisper of joy that sustained you in knowing that you had the chance to surprise those weasels in their moment of need would be lost forever.
. . . .So now fast forward a couple of more months (and here is where the generalities that I mentioned above that could be true for anybody and certainly is nonspecific to my particular plight ends and my reality begins) and I find myself in a new city with a new house in a different but equally confusing slice of suburbia without a job and without much on the horizon in the job market. The career path that I was so eager to abandon in Arizona would be a welcome existence here in Texas. The irony is that this time of year is the undeniable worst period of time to be looking for anything in the hotel/resort/country club world. Jobs that were listed online just a month ago have been whitewashed away at basically every hotel in the metroplex (that's Dallas/Fort Worth for those of you not familiar with this silly world I have entered). So now I find myself with a quandry--no job, no contacts, no network of friends, no opportunities on the horizon and a daunting mortgage payment and still plenty of mouths to feed. In one way, it may force me to find a job outside the industry (which ultimately would be the right thing to do for the long run), but it may also force me to take a job at 7-eleven if something doesn't come along soon.
The joy I get now out of looking on monster.com, hcareers.com, on every hotel website on the planet and finding that the only positions available are for bilingual part-time housekeepers at $7/hour is indescribable. I'll be getting in touch with headhunters this week and I'll do my best to keep you posted.
. . . Aside from the job thing, however, things here are fan-freaking-tastic. Our new house is incredible--you get a lot more for your money in Dallas than you do in Arizona. We have doubled the size of our home and are very excited about the area where we are located. The schools are rated the best in the state and we are a mere 3 hour drive to Meemaw and Poppy-Joe, so you know there will be lots of great stories on the horizon. Until I find gainful employment, I will try to do a better job of writing. Those of you who are still actually checking this site, I thank you for your patience (except Matt R and DJ, CDN who have threatened my life for not posting and having to look at that horrific picture of the rat for over two months). I will get back on track and believe me, there are volumes of stories that have been building for the past two months. I will do my best to relive them with all of you. Thanks again