With those two little words -- “Checking In” -- on the subject line of an email that arrived at 7:18am, the tone for day was set.
When I was working, there would be days where it felt like I couldn’t go a minute without getting a new work email. Now, I go full days without getting anything. I’m even off the list of people to get their package enlarged -- if you know what I mean.
I used to look forward to seeing my voice mail light unlit, now I can’t wait for the phone to ring, even if it’s a telemarketer.
It’s hard to believe that people were only talking to me because of where I was and not who I was, but with each passing day, it’s becoming more clear.
Perhaps the most disappointing and discouraging part of this unemployment process is the lack of response from people I considered friends.
Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t expecting and am not expecting ANY kind of free meal and I certainly never expected somebody to hand me a job “just because we were friends”, but I didn’t expect this sound of silence.
I have joked with myself -- because no one else is listening -- that I should keep a list of all the people who have not had the courtesy of returning an email.
(Note to self: you have a project for tomorrow.)
Whether it’s passive-aggressive or courteous of just plain dumb, I have chosen to try and make contact with people via email instead of hitting the phone lines.
The last thing I want to do is cross that line of confronting a “friend” for a job and making them uncomfortable. I figured, everybody knows how to respond to an email these days.
I have certainly contacted many of my former colleagues to make them aware of my situation and at the least, I expected a response of “I will keep my eyes and ears open”, but in reality I have received pretty much nothing.
Recently, I sent out eleven different follow-up emails to friends in the business to say hello and see if they had heard anything. (Keep in mind that these eleven are just a fraction of a the hundreds I have sent out to others.)
A month later, here’s the tally.
Two people responded -- including one, who my father once hired for his “big break” and a friend who I used to work with, who now is the top executive in his company.
Response #1 (from my dad’s friend) was basically: don’t call me, i’ll call you.
Response #2 (from my friend) was thanks for the update.
That would mean that the other nine “friends” couldn’t find the time to respond. I would’ve taken a “Thank You”, “Screw You” or anything in the middle, but in the end, I got nothing.
Hey, there’s always tomorrow.