My feet hurt.

I’m not surprised. I’m wearing shoes that were never built for walking anywhere but on carpeted floors.  And I’ve already walked (or possibly trudged) a mile or so, between getting from the shelter to the train station, from one platform to the next for the three trains I have to take, and from the last station to my destination.  Where I get to stand in line waiting for the doors to open so I can go through security before I get upstairs and report in on my recent job searches.

Been doing this for three weeks now.  One more week to go.  Okay, the first week was mostly filling out paperwork for the job program; active searching started the second week.  Minimum three job applications a day, but of course, more is better, and we want better, don’t we?  I do, anyway, but I admit it’s Frustration City to know I’ve sent out between 175 and 200 resumes this year and only scored three interviews.  Never heard anything at all on most of them.

Like everyone else looking right now, getting a response, ANY response, feels like a step in the right direction, even if the response is the job seeker’s equivalent of a “Dear John” letter. Continue reading