A Bloated Wallet in this Economy

It's inevitable. Pretty soon, I'll have to buckle down and get a murse.

No, it isn't that I'm making that much money in my new job. It's the influx of cards I've received because of said métier.

Each week I get a new card in the mail. It started slowly with the ID card for work and the health insurance cards, one for medical the other for dental. Pretty standard. The following week yet another letter came in the post. This time it was a prescription drug card. Clearly not finished commandeering control of my wallet, I received a card for my flex spending account from the greedy-for-wallet-space insurance company.

There are only so many slots in my wallet. Most were already snuggly filled before taking on this job and its accompanying legion of plastic.

You can learn a lot about someone based on what they keep in their wallet. Probably more so based on what someone keeps in their purse, especially so if it's a man with a purse.

My wallet is robustly filled, but not to the point of overflowing or not being able to close. There are the bank cards; four total--2 credit, 2 debit. It's all about balance. Then the requisite driver's license is shrouded behind plastic in a hole barely big enough to hold it or enable me to get it out with any level of ease. My car insurance card, flimsy but it still takes up space.

In the middle I keep some business cards in the event I run into a cute girl who has neither a phone nor a pen to take down my number. (A guy can dream.)

The plastic sleeves intended for pictures house a decade old picture of my sister, a ticket stub from a Cubs/Diamondbacks game I went to several years ago and the third picture slot holds dust. I'd like to think I'm saving this spot for a girlfriend's picture, but based on recent endeavors in online dating, it may continue to be my dust receptacle.

Attention identity thieves and muggers: Since I carry so many insurance cards and outdated crap, I don't have the strength to carry any tangible form of money. You'll be lucky to find more than three dollars in my wallet at a given time. Currently, there is $0 and a receipt from getting my hair cut. So, if you want a dollar off your next trim, by all means take my wallet. Otherwise, you just inherited back problems. Joke's on you sucker.

Week One Report

No one ever told me work would be tiring. After all the glamorization of work from Disney movies, Office Space and TV shows like Murphy Brown, The Office and Cheers, I was prepared for a land of milk and honey. Thankfully, it isn't like the failed Fred Savage show Working.

The week started ominously with the miscommunication regarding my first day. After a prototypical night-before-a-new-job night's sleep, I went through my morning work routine then hit the roads. Arriving early, I was greeted by the receptionist, who was confused about my attendance. Turns out there was an error in my offer letter. My boss had told me Tuesday would be my first day, but the letter from HR informed me that I should show up Monday. My boss was right and HR was wrong. After a quick chat with my boss, it was back on the roads for home. The extra day provided me the chance to setup a new bank account and get insurance squared away on my new ride.

My second first day proved more standard. I met with HR and discussed the benefits available, which is pretty exciting. After an apology about the first day debacle, I asked "I still get paid for Monday, right?" The office does take Martin Luther King, Jr. Day in case you wondered.

The balance of the day and the week was spent training with my coworkers, who are all very nice and helpful. I have a pretty firm grasp on the role I'll play and what they strive for. Next week will be my final week of training before I am let loose on the world to write captivating copy and impress clients everywhere. Look out world.

Odd things about working:

Being followed into the Mens room. I've been followed in there twice. Both times I ended up washing my hands and trying to chat while darting my eyes all around the small room avoiding eye contact. Seriously, where am I supposed to look? Come on now. I appreciate my coworkers making an effort to get to know me, but is the Mens room the proper place for women?

The setup of this office is a bit peculiar. Taking its cue from interior design shows on HGTV, they went for an open floor plan. Avoiding the stigma of cubicle land, they opted for half cubicles so you can see everyone and subsequently they can see you. It's nice in a way, but the majority of people in the office are sales folk who are always on the phone pursuing clients.

De facto segregation in the cafeteria.

A tale of two parking lots. There is an upper lot that is much closer to the entrance and a lower lot that has a gate. If you want to park closer you need to get to work earlier. This incentive and competition for 30 spots is a source of office conversation. After reading a few Econ books, the Elite lot as I'm dubbing it, encourages people to get to work early, while also making those who arrive later feel less of themselves. Well played.

Casual dress. Once again, to the chagrin of my sister, I have landed a job with a very "relaxed" dress code. Office attire includes jeans and t-shirts.

Inter-Office politics: The company I work for is part of a bigger company that occupies 95% of the huge building. There is some animosity toward my company for its casual dress. This acrimony is taken out on the field during the summer when they play Wiffle ball. I've been warned.

Computer restrictions

I've dealt with this before, but it's the bane of my existence. Is iTunes really going to bring the company down? I need my Grammar Girl and The Bugle podcasts.

Last but not least, learning to speak proper English. A few of my coworkers are from the UK. Therefore, I am on the accelerated course to learning to speak British. There's another bullet point on my resume. I plan on keeping a log of new words I come across. Last week I learned naffie (corny), no worries mate (I knew this one), brilliant and cheers. There were others but I neglected to write them down.

Late last week I learned the master plan for my role. I'll be doing copy writing and split the account management roles with one of the people on the creative team. Yeah responsibility!

I'll do better next week, if they let me in.

Crafty

As an added motivation to find employment, I swore off using Facebook. (Sadly it has been replaced with online dating sites.) My logic was based in the fact that Facebook is especially depressing after you graduate. Pictures of parties you weren't at, notifications of who's now in a relationshit and the always inspiring wall posts with the insipid LOL. It has been two weeks since I last touched the sweet nectar. And then tonight, I got this email:

Unfortunately, the settings that control which email notifications get sent to you were lost. We're sorry for the inconvenience.

To reset your email notification settings, go to:

http://www.facebook.com/editaccount.php?notifications

Thanks,
The Facebook Team

Just when you think you're out, they pull you back in. Lost? Really? You lost my settings. I expected more from you Mark Zuckerberg.

I am staying strong. The next step is removing the bookmark.

I'm also working on a video to combat the other posts on Facebook. It'll be huge if I actually make it.

Tentative title: F Facebook.

Words of Encouragement

The Wall Street Journal ran "The Declining Value Of Your College Degree". It focuses mainly on older graduates, but I think the situation has worsened for recent grads.

That Other 10 Percent

During an IHS lecture by Carolyn Lochhead of the San Francisco Chronicle, she mentioned how showing up is 90 percent of the battle of being a journalist. As I recall the other 10 is miscellaneous factors to being a good journalist. Inspired by this, I have decided to show up at area newsrooms ready to work.

The other 10 percent could be actually being permitted to work someplace. Nevertheless, I am resolute in my goal of employment. I wonder what sort of reaction I'd get by simply showing up. My theory is a quick refusal by security or the receptionist, but it certainly would show moxie.

I've also thought of going to local city hall and school board meetings to write briefs about what happened and submit them to the local papers. It would serve as a pencil sharpener for my writing skills and could be a foot in to a job.

Now what?

Sixteen days ago I received that exalted piece of paper with Northwestern University in large script and my name in substantially smaller block letters. Contrary to my hope college degrees don't come with job offers. Instead of being welcomed into the real world with a firm handshake I have been warmly greeted with a proliferation of credit card offers and solicitations to consolidate my school loans.

The prospect of the end of required education was surely an enticing and exhilarating thought. No more dry history textbooks which lulled me into slumber after a few pages. Au revoir French homework that left me questioning "qu'est-ce que c'est". Goodbye midterm papers on Battleship Potemkin and Citizen Kane. My college days of rising with the sun for classes on south campus and walking on the lakefront bike path are sadly gone. While I didn't lose sleep over the tantalizing prospect of sitting in lecture halls it was what I knew. A large part of my life has been spent learning from others.

Now I rise a little later each day and look to learn some more. Shortly after coming home from school I stopped by the library to check-out a GRE book and some classical literature. I'm disappointed that one of my first actions after being emancipated from the education system was to get educational books. Each day starts with reviewing daily emails of new job postings. Each time you try to escape they pull you back in.

My hope in the creation of this blog is not to claim that my life is exciting and necessitates the journaling of my actions or my inner thoughts about the news. There are many people who are more insightful or intelligent than I am. My hope is to track the hunt for a job after completing college. This may be the only way to keep sane during the search. Also, I read this story the other day:
http://www.chicagotribune.com/classified/jobs/news/chi-0620blogger_filljun20,0,419978.story?coll=chi-classifiedjobs-hed

So logically I deduced that blogging gets jobs.

If you have tips feel free to pass them along. I don't consider selling all of my personal affects and moving to Idaho a tip. I'll try to share my interactions and hopefully the successful landing of a stellar job on this blog.

Finally, today at the grocery I heard a rather insightful remark from an older man when asked how he was doing. He simply said, "I woke up." That is a good day.