Well today was quite the little rollercoaster. I had a job interview today, for a promotions position at a casino, basically to help source and secure prizes for giveaways and help coordinate headliners coming in to do shows, plus a lot of MC-ing apparently. The pay is pretty good, solid benes and free meals. Sounds like a slam dunk (if I am actually offered the position) in most people’s book.
The hours a LONG and mandatory weekends, the casino is open 24/7 and they got events running all the time so they need staff that can run all the time in every department.
I got to the interview and it was a real hit! I felt confident and I made them laugh while doing better than I had expected at the actual interview part. For having been in soul crushing anguish the past week it was a nice win, and really what I wanted was some interviewing experience/practice.
But then I got home and started to panic. What if they *actually* offer me the job? I mean I know I can say ’no‘ but I am worried about letting down my folks because they are really hoping that I can achieve my independence sooner rather than later. It really is good on paper at least as far as compensation goes. A good 70-85% of the job description seems really interesting to me, but I really don’t want to literally be reading raffle winners on stage behind a microphone with a spotlight on me, surrounded by drunk people.
I really was hoping for a quiet back office job where I can do some good work but everywhere I apply on that front is a dead end. I feel like there is indeed some greater force out there demanding I pay some kind of penance for having been unemployed for the past 5 years.
I feel like an asshole for even posting this. Like everyone I know has worked jobs that had weekend shifts, even I worked a couple just out of college (I was fortunate in that we had a store manager that absolutely loved working weekends alone so he’d never schedule any of us unless he really needed the extra help - we were a print/copy shop). I have been reading heart breaking stories on here about some wonderful folk who are struggling to make ends meet and working their tails off and here I am crying like a kid who was told he needs to get a summer job for the time,
At least this time it’s not anxiety attacking me, but good ole faithful - depression. Worthlessness. Laziness. Uselessness.
I really do feel like a waste of space.