Hubby is job hunting. His post-doc position is ending in October and the serious need for a real, grown up job is growing with every day. He applied for a job last fall that he was the insider candidate for, the job that we have heard for years would be his as soon as Guy M retires. Guy M assured us that he wanted hubby as his successor, a true “heir apparent” as it were.
Job applied for, a grueling 4 day, 2 seminar interview ensued. Harrowing would be an appropriate word. My mother asked if hubby liked doing this? I had to reply that this was just part of the game in PhD land… (as if anyone would enjoy this process…)
So, we waited for a response. Hiring committee met a few weeks ago, they had to pass it up the food chain and each level would agree or make a different choice… all the while, we sit here, twiddling our thumbs. Do I start job hunting? House hunting? Collecting boxes for packing? It is this inbetween time of knowing that is making me crazy. Well, crazier than I was before (don’t laugh, it is possible).
Fearing that a level or two in the food chain of deciding were just sitting and doing NOTHING, hubby became proactive. Some of the folks at the food chain are actually references of his for other jobs. So, he applied to a few more jobs in industry, which moves decidedly faster in the hiring process. Maybe, if the industry folks make a call to the references, maybe something will happen in the job that he was after.
Industry definitely moves faster than academia. As I was reading the latest post from the Yarn Harlot, hubby got a call – an on phone interview from a job that he submitted the application for 2 days earlier. So, as the Harlot was posting about teenage stress, I posted in her comments:
Stress? What stress? I am only sitting here reading your post about being surrounded by stressed out teenagers while my husband has an over the phone interview for a job that he applied for on Wednesday. He applied for it arguably to light a fire under the seats of the deciding people of a job he had a 4 day interview for a month ago… Shall we live in Texas or Georgia? No, no stress here… Hopefully, it will end for all of soon. (Not that there is any stress at all involved in interstate moving.)
As one of 304 people who posted comments, I figured I was lucky if ANYONE read my feeble words. Not that it was important that anyone read them (it isn’t) just that I was commiserating in this odd medium of blogginess. I was a bit surprised to get a real email from… the Harlot.
Ok. You and I are at least on a tie.
Holy hay flowers! A response from the Harlot. I nearly fell out of my chair.
Then, insanity reigned supreme and I decided to reply to her thinking… I don’t know what I was thinking, but this is what I wrote:
He has an interview in California NEXT WEEK now. Has to give a big fancy phd level talk NEXT WEEK. And, he has to make sense, at least to DNA wielding gene jockey folks. (Which may not make sense to the rest of the world.) So much for weekend plans! Oh, and when they asked when he might be able to move, he asked when they needed him by. How about July? Again, no stress.
The good thing is, maybe he’ll get this job and we can move to Georgia and not have to stay in Texas. My heart is breaking because I really wanted to move to Dallas. (Not that I am at all sarcastic and ready to escape Texas.) Dallas is so beautiful in the summer. It’s the other Austin. Just bigger and less weird.
Tell the teens good luck on the exams!
Oddly enough, no response to my witty thoughts from the Harlot. 8)
Honestly, it was the stress, I’m not usually so clueless. (Again, no replies needed to this statement.)
Hubby has left today for the interview, perhaps ready (he only spent 5 days preparing – the other interviews he spent a month on) and now, actually needing to do well. We received an oh so tasteless email yesterday informing us that the heir apparent job actually went to the less talented candidate. Politics and stupidity and many more words that I cannot use in public (or at least have been informed by others that I should not use). In the end, he was the best choice and has been informed of that by others who are as angry and upset as we are. It doesn’t make the hurt any less though.
So, more fun on the job hunt… Now that we are thoroughly deflated, we will have no hopes or dreams of jobs until the contract is signed. Here’s hoping for better luck this time around.