Author: Mark Alexander

In the last week I’ve had two phone interviews for two different jobs. The first was one a bust almost from the beginning. I knew going in that it was for only a short-term (3 month) contract with no possibility of going permanent, but at this point I’m so fed up with the situation where I’m at now even that would be a relief. Unfortunately, while the interview went well, the person I was speaking with told me she couldn’t even guarantee six weeks, much less three months; something that came to a complete surprise to the recruiter who put us together. I politely thanked her for her time and told her I this really wasn’t what I was looking for. 3 months I could live with. Half that? Not so much.

The other interview—just this morning, for a six-month contract-to-hire—went very well. I had all the “right” answers to his questions, and the technical aspects of the job sounded like exactly what I was looking for. He suggested I stop by this afternoon to meet in person and tour of the facility. My little heart went pitter-patter. Would this be one of those “kismet” interviews?

The answer to that would be no. Almost from from the moment I arrived, my spidey sense started tingling—and not in a good way. And it only got worse. The guy I interviewed with—my would-be future supervisor—was nice enough and I could tell I’d really enjoy working with him—but he wouldn’t be on site. He’s based in Salt Lake City.

And that brings me to the biggest reason I quickly decided I didn’t want to work there: I would be one half of only a two-man on-site team—pretty much the same thing I’ve got going on now (at least when we have an I.T. Director) but with twice as many users as I currently support. Secondly, the rest of the I.T. department is spread out across other cities, so there isn’t going to be a whole lot of bonding going on there. Maybe this is a trend; I know we were moving in that direction at my last job in Phoenix, but it was only implemented long after I’d departed. And lastly, it took only a few minutes in the building to remember why I turned down so many offers from investment bankers during the 90s; the atmosphere—even though this place was brand new—was just plain skeevy.

Being a responsible self-starter, I certainly enjoy the freedom that the situation of being more-or-less alone and unsupervised would have provided, but I what I really want (and miss) is what I had at my last job in Arizona; I want to once again be part of a bigger work “family”—one that’s linked by more than telephone and video conferences.

I know my ideal job in Denver is still out there, it’s just a matter of time before it shows up. It has been my experience that whenever I’ve moved to a new city, the first job I land there is only a stepping stone; something to simply get me settled. It’s the second job that always seems to turn into something magical—and while I am rather disappointed at the turn of events, I can say unequivocally that the position I interviewed for today wasn’t that job.

When we moved to Denver, I was dead-set against going back into supporting a hospital environment, but now that I’ve been away from it for almost four years (I worked at my company’s insurance division for 18 months before leaving Phoenix), I think I might actually be ready to return, and I told the Universe as much. The last time I told the Universe I was ready for something, Ben appeared. We’ll see if it’s still listening…