The Perfect Job, The Paying Job, and The Promising Job
I found The Perfect Job yesterday. I found it in one of those job search engines that I’ve been frequenting lately. I called in the morning and asked if I could be scheduled for an interview that afternoon. The human resource person agreed; I took a test and was interviewed by two people, all within four hours. Even they (the HR people) remarked that I was perfect for the job. I could easily fit into both positions they were pitching for (I initially thought it was one of those slash positions, wherein you would have to multitask between two different disciplines). Both designations would allow me to utilize not only skills I’ve developed; I would actually be able to put my so-called talents to use. I believe I can handle both, and I would happily do so. That alone makes it seemingly perfect: I will not have to force myself into assuming a role that I would soon learn to despise.
Here’s the catch: the salary they’re offering is painfully lower than what I expected. And painfully lower than what I deserve, considering I can practically juggle the job standing on one foot, with my eyes closed, and with a hefty smile on my face. I might as well die a starving artist.
I sought for an alternative. I applied for a paying job the very same day. The Paying Job is one that guarantees more than average compensation and even more---much, much more--- once you learn the ropes and climb the corporate ladder. This is the job that potential starving artists dread, but are willing to get into just so they can have money to invest on their passions, and of course, for practical reasons. The trouble with applying for such a job is that it’s difficult to fool even yourself into believing that you will eventually fall in love with it.
I even applied for a promising job. The Promising Job requires you to do something you might be fond of, could pay reasonably, and may even lead to new avenues for growth, partly because your would-be-employer is an established, fairly stable corporation. But since it’s promising, it follows the premise that promises can be broken.
I am a victim of broken promises. I applied for two web content writing jobs. Both companies concluded that I was qualified, based on my interview and exam results, and would be an asset. Company #1 pays reasonably, except that they can’t deploy me yet because they still don’t have a project that I can work on. Company #2 would have been ready to take me on board, except that I expressed how painfully lower (again!) their compensation package was, compared to current standards.
And then there’s this home-based, part-time blogging gig. Another promising job. I was about to ecstatically announce to the whole world that I would be blogging for a living, write an oh-wow-I’m-a-professional-blogger-now entry, until I learned how much it would pay, which isn’t much. I say “isn’t much” because you cannot use the word much to describe it. Much would be too much of a word. To give you an idea, the pay isn’t just painfully lower than what you would expect; it’s beyond being painful. It’s fatal! And I don’t mean to-die-for. Any average guy who can write a complete, coherent sentence in English would be insulted by the measly amount they’re willing to pay in exchange for the hundreds of words one can produce. Your one-hundred words would only be equivalent to a pack of local cigarettes, or a bottle of beer in a low-end joint.
When you’re seriously looking for a job, it’s always a toss between pursuing a career, and doing it for the money. This is exactly the reason we have starving artists and corporate slaves, capitalist pigs and exploited dreamers. This is probably why many of us are so intent on employment opportunities abroad. Even the perfect jobs in this country aren’t so perfect; the paying jobs aren’t ideal, and the promising ones stop at merely being promising.