Denied.
Speaking of jobs, in the many interviews I have been doing lately, I was recently turned down after a preliminary meeting not because I wasn't qualified for the job. No, my 13 years of sales experience in the technical and scientific space put me right where I needed to be. Rather, I was eliminated because I had taken a year off of work.
This loss of this job, despite the success and overall reputation of this company, is no skin off my back.
Frankly, if you corporate monkeys can't understand why I did what I did and don't see the value in it, than I really have no business working for you anyhow.
In twelve months I managed to scratch about two-dozen items off my life's to-do list. Something that took several years of financial planning and a huge leap of faith to accomplish. I saw every continent and molested pandas and penguins. I climbed into the Great Pyramid and scaled dozens if not hundreds of sheer cliff faces in seven countries and in five different states. I learned more about who I was and where I fit in the world and saw how much of it there is still left to see. And I fell in love. Twice actually.
So. How productive was your year, monkey boy?
If you are going to dump me for something, at least dump me for a good reason. Like writing about you on this website.
Besides, despite the overall compensation package, the proposed salary was about 50% less than what someone with my qualifications deserves. Go find some other monkey to sell your stuff. This monkey will find a better tree.



Comments
sometimes... there are more important things in life then one's career. it's too bad they could not see that taking a year off can actually benefit a person... make them stronger, more mature, and more energetic in facing challenges.
Posted by: shy | March 7, 2006 12:22 PM
You have lived my dream and the dreams of many others. For that, we salute you. And remember, Joshua T. thinks you hung the moon.
In regards to your post re: slobber therapy, I, too, am currently involved in boxer therapy. I am the proud person of a boxer mix named Hooch. However, my favorite canine therapist was a husky lab mix I adopted just before I started med school. I named him "Crazy". That way, when I was going nuts, I could look at him and say, "I'm not Crazy, you are."
Plus, when I got drunk, I sang Patsy Cline to him and he'd tilt his head and howl along.
Keep your chin up.
Posted by: StampyDurst | March 7, 2006 09:11 PM