Job Hunting Junkie

Summary

The author is a serial entrepreneur who finds the process of job hunting similar to the excitement of running a business, despite the uncertainty and drama involved.

Abstract

The author of the article, a self-proclaimed serial entrepreneur, recounts their journey through various small business ventures, from selling handmade goods to running a yoga studio for two decades. After a brief stint in a government job, they returned to the thrill of job hunting, enjoying the process of preparing applications, fine-tuning resumes, and even attending interviews, despite often realizing they do not actually want the job. This process provides a similar rush to running a business, with the pursuit of opportunities and the satisfaction of self-improvement. The author acknowledges the unsustainable nature of using job applications as a source of excitement but recognizes that this phase is guiding them towards understanding their true passion for entrepreneurship, hinting at the possibility of starting another business.

Opinions

The author enjoys the process of creating and running businesses, despite their often non-viable nature.
They appreciate the structure and lack of responsibility that comes with having a boss in a traditional job setting.
The excitement of job hunting, including researching, preparing, and attending interviews, is compared to the thrill of entrepreneurship.
There is a recognition of the impracticality of job hunting purely for the adrenaline rush, as it does not provide financial stability.
The author admits to a love for the drama, worry, and risk associated with pursuing business opportunities and solving problems.
Each job application and interview process is seen as a learning experience, providing self-insight and direction for future endeavors.
The author is coming to terms with their identity as an entrepreneur, realizing that this may not be a phase but a core part of who they are.

Making a business out of looking for a job

I’m a serial entrepreneur. Everything I do becomes a possibility for a business. It started with garage sales when I was a kid. My sisters, the neighbor kids, and I would gather junk from our parents’ basements, load it into wagons and schlep it down to the corner of 57th outside of Powell’s Bookstore where we’d set up on Saturdays and Sundays. We labeled our wares with masking tape prices and sat outside waiting for customers. Our goal was always to make enough money to buy an extra-large cheese pizza at the Medici and Twix bars from Harper Foods across the street.

After college, I had a business making beaded earrings with my sister. We sat outside the mall downtown on a big Mexican blanket, all our earrings laid out, hoping a buyer from Nordstrom or Macy’s would walk by and tell us how amazing our work was. Then after graduate school, I made fleece hats. I created cute labels and sold them at craft fairs. Around the time my daughter was born I started making little baby shirts with tiny felt birds on them. I gave them to all my friends who had babies and sold them at various gift shops around town. None of these businesses was ever viable enough to support me, but I loved doing them. I loved creating these businesses.

Eventually, I started my own real business, a yoga studio, which I ran for close to twenty years. After I sold it, I said to myself, “Never again. I will never own a business again.” I was burned out. Tired of the hustle.

I took a government job as a contact tracer for a year and found that I loved it. I loved having a boss, someone else to carry the burden, someone to tell me what to do. For a year this was great. And then I got bored. I needed something new and different. I missed the excitement and energy that came from juggling the moving parts of running a business.

So I quit my government job. I started job hunting again. Everything sounded interesting to me and I applied for dozens of positions. It was thrilling, to prepare for different roles. And I was lucky enough to get several interviews. To prepare for the interviews I’d research, make lists, plan my outfit, role play with my family and friends. There was one job that I really wanted, that I thought I’d surely get, that I didn’t. I grieved over that and moved on, applying for more jobs.

When I’m applying for a job, writing my cover letter, fine-tuning my resume, preparing writing samples, I think to myself, “This could be cool. This job might be really interesting.” And then they call me for an interview. And I panic. “I don’t want this job. It sounds awful.” As I craft an email or prepare for a phone call to politely decline the interview, I wonder what possessed me to apply for that position in the first place.

I’m a job-hunting junkie. It’s the rush that comes from putting myself out there. It’s the thrill of the chase. It’s the same energy I had when I ran a business. When I ran a business, there was always a little bit of drama, a hint of worry and risk. I was always pursuing something — more customers, a city grant, better vendors. I loved that part of my job. I loved solving problems and making my business better. It made me feel proud, accomplished.

I’m recreating that feeling in my job hunting. I just applied for another position yesterday. I spent time gathering all the required materials, making a pitch for how great I am, trying to sell myself. Maybe I’ll get an interview. That would make me feel proud, accomplished! And if I do get an interview, maybe I’ll go through with it. But a part of me knows I won’t. Part of me knows that I applied for that position to experience that feeling again — that feeling of winning, of succeeding, of making something happen.

But with each application, each interview or invitation to interview, I learn something about myself. Mostly I learn that I don’t want to do that job. But sometimes I feel a spark of excitement and that guides me towards my next move.

I know I can’t apply for job after job just for the thrill of it. That’s unrealistic and unsustainable. Applying for jobs doesn’t give me a paycheck. But this whole process has helped me understand myself a bit better. I am what I am. I am an entrepreneur. I love the thrill of that life and, though I wanted it to be a thing of my past, I fear it’s not. I’ve got lots of ideas percolating, but nothing I feel sure about yet. So, for now, I’m going to keep hunting for jobs, gathering information in the process, learning more about myself as I go. It’s possible I’ll find the perfect job. Or maybe I’ll just start another business.