NOTE TO SELF: When asked for salary requirements from prospective employers, do your homework before throwing out a number. Especially when the number is too low and labels you a novice, newbie, rookie, or otherwise glorified newcomer to a field you once knew well. It won’t take you long to get up to speed — trust me, you’re smarter than you think — but you have only one chance to
Return-to-Work Moms Take Notice
No posts since January. Want to know why? I’ve been working!! Yabbadabbadoo! I’ve had several J-O-B-S where I get paid to work, think, contribute, and negotiate despite the fact that I have been in and out of the workforce since the days way back when, when Madonna was the reigning Lady Gaga. Good news for return-to-work moms: life did not end while we were busy nursing and driving carpool. There
Pay Me in Compliments…priceless!
Went on an interview today for a job that pays less than my daughters get babysitting. The job is for an communications specialist in a public school setting. Letting the public know what’s going on and why; what’s fact; what’s rumor; the successes, failures, and everything in between. Translating teacher/administrator/board of ed talk into language everybody can understand. I can do this with my eyes closed. In my own town,
Not So Fast: Putting the Brakes on the Part-Time Job
Seems I’m working too much. Bossman called yesterday to say the 15-20 hours per week is just too much, and he wants to scale back to 5-10. Immediately. I knew this going in, but after the xmas techno splurge, this news was a little tough to the gut. Combing through the timesheet, he does seem to like the work I’ve done so far. But that work takes time. Just a
Santa: Make Me Legit
We had a very Apple Christmas over here at the technically challenged house. Got myself a macbook and an iphone — spending every bit and then some of the $1547 I netted in 2009. Husband assures me I’m on a roll, and 2010 will be more than prosperous, but as he often does, he’s put the cart before the horse with the techno-gadgets. Truth be told, I’m holding my breath
Gumby: Green Guy, Quite Stretchy
Occurred to me recently that perhaps return-to-work moms reading this who didn’t wait until their oldest was 17 to get a J-O-B may not exactly know who Gumby is. Makes me want to gag, but apparently, Gumby is not a household word any longer, but someone forgot to tell me. See, I’m old. I wasn’t aware of it, regardless of constant reminding from teen-offspring who say I’m not nearly as
No Cell Phones Allowed, Grandma
Cell phones, blackberries, iphones, ipods anything hand held will be bludgeoned with a rolling pin should you turn them on in my house this holiday season. If I can cook, clean, coerce, commune and condone loved ones during this forced festive time, the least the family can do is keep their frickin’ link to the universe in their car and be an active participant in reality. After lecturing my kids
Gumby’s Encouraged to Apply
Way back when, when actually thought I could get a job I applied for, I’d see a posting and think: do I really want to work there? Will I like it? Can I do it? Before even applying I honestly thought I’d be seriously considered for each and every employment opportunity. And I was as selective and scrutinizing as womanly possible: commute, pay, environment, ethics, education, skills, size, opportunity, benefits,
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