For jobs, that is.  Jobs in New Orleans.

I am two days into an initial job hunt.  Too early to tell, too early to hear anything back.  But, so far so good, I say, since I feel like I am finally rediscovering the job-search groove.  I’ve not had to look for new employment in 11 years.  ELEVEN YEARS.  That is hard to grasp, sometimes.  It’s amazing how time flies, when you’re in a daily routine.  One day you look up and go, “ELEVEN YEARS?!”

That being said, yesterday, day one of The Hunt, I was a nervous wreck.  For absolutely no reason.  It took me forever to compose a decent cover letter because I kept getting stuck on semantics, or something.  Nevertheless, I just submitted my my last round of letter/resume/writing samples (for this particular opportunity) a few moments ago and realized I was not having a heart attack.  Improvement.

I am amazed, though, at how the application-for-employment process has changed, in the 11 years that I’ve been out here with my head down, working along in my little environment.  Well, it hasn’t changed MUCH, per se, but the one difference I’m seeing is the preference to receive inquiries/resumes/etc. via email, on the employer’s part.  “Back in MY day,” says this ol’ lady (well, not so ol’, but you know), “we had to use the telephone and, gods forbid, the regular mail!”  It’s not that email was SO very primitive, 11 years ago, but that it wasn’t as accepted a reasonable method as it seems to be now.  At least, as far as I can tell by the, “NO phone calls, please, email this to:” statements that I keep running across.

Digital Me likes this.

The handful of places that I have applied for, thus far, are all very interesting and seem very exciting, all in their own different ways, and I would merrily take any one of them.  It’s time to make that voodoo jar.

That is it, for the time being.  I’ve had my head in da dirt this week.  I’ve been feeling fairly antisocial and hidey, not because anything is wrong, but because I’m trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I am on the prowl.  For jobs.  In New Orleans.

I am off to eke out the last 30 minutes of a day’s work, and then run around like a crack squirrel because I had a Monster energy beverage and it is taking its toll.

Speaking of squirrels, as I was leaning in the open balcony door of my apartment this morning, having a smoke and watching the sun come all the way up (sleepy thing), I saw the silhouette of what looked like a hawk or a golden eagle in the very-tall tree next to my building.  I got excited.  And then, as I stared at it in complete awe…it moved.  And I realized it was a squirrel who happened to be perched on the branch in such a way, and in such a position, that its shadowed figure merely LOOKED like a majestic neighbor in the family of awesome birds.  Until it moved.

A Most Fowl Squirrel, Indeed.