Another day, another seven, count 'em seven job rejections.

I'll have to refer to my spreadsheet and run the numbers, but I believe that's a one-day record.

Six of them used the same three sentences all HR departments send to rejected candidates. I know them by heart.

We wanted to follow up with you on the status of your application for the position of [whatever].  While we were impressed with your qualifications, we have decided to pursue other candidates who are a  closer match for the position.

Please feel free to apply for other open positions that you are interested in.

Apparently there are a lot of candidates with professional backgrounds that are a closer match than I am to the position of working a 4 AM shift of donning a hair net and and plastic gloves and putting pre-made frozen bagels and bread into ovens and removing them when the timer beeps.

Apparently there are a lot of people who are a closer match than I am to the position of opening boxes, counting items, placing an "x" in the received column and placing them on a shelf.

Apparently there are a lot of people who are a closer match than I am to an after hours position of cleaning and sanitizing a day care.

Apparently there are a lot of people who are a closer match than I am to managing the exact same type of clients I managed in my last job. (actually, that's probably true - there are a lot of us and most of us are unemployed)

The seventh, and most recent (hey, the day's not over, there could be another rejection headed my way!) offered insight as to why I didn't get the job.

Regarding your application for the position of creative services manager.  While we were impressed with your high level of qualifications, we have decided to pursue a more creative candidate

Okay, in my field that's a common rejection reason. Employers are often looking for a very specific "look" or creative methodology in a candidate's book of previous projects.

But get this: The company that rejected me today because I wasn't creative enough is a company that distributes industrial construction supplies - lag bolts, concrete saw blades,  bull pins, that sort of thing. Mind you, they do not manufacture, design or have anything to do with the items other than distributing them. Further, during the three interviews I had with them, it was stressed that the position is primarily updating existing materials (which consist primarily of product listings and price sheets). They don't want to reinvent their marketing plan because the existing "plan" works and since they have a good relationship with the state and federal construction purchasers. They supply materials to government construction projects, so the job requires handling two sets of pricing structures, government and non-government. The "government, and non-government" factor was repeated and emphasized several times during the interview process.

The irony is that during the interview process I kept thinking, "They don't really need a creative services or marketing person because they're happy with what they have and they don't want to change anything other than pricing."

I went in there brimming with ideas, but when I asked questions like, "Have you tried something like XYZ?" Or, "Do you target 123 audience?" They cut me off with, "We don't do that. We're very content with our current pieces. We really just need someone to manage the updates and make sure the sales team has current price lists."

And yet they rejected me because they are pursuing a more creative candidate.

Us job seekers are supposed to use rejections as valuable insight. We're supposed to glean wisdom and take rejections as advice on where we need to improve ourselves and our skill sets.

Okay, I'm not creative enough. I'm not creative enough to update price sheets, maintain two sets of price sheets (government and non-government) and make sure the sales team has current information.

It isn't even worth wasting one of my WTF free passes on this.

If they were an agency with clients spending $$$ and expecting trendy or sophisticated design and innovation, I would completely understand. Those types of jobs require someone with very distinct project and client background and a very particular vision and dynamic strategy. But these people don't even swutting manufacture anything. They order construction materials from manufacturers, put them in boxes and re-sell them to construction purchasing agents. Further, they don't want to change anything, by their own admission, they're "very content with our current pieces." And, they "really just need someone to manage the updates and make sure the sales team has current price lists." I could understand if they said, "We're pursuing a more boring candidate." Or, "We're pursuing a far less experienced candidate." Or, "We pursuing a candidate with government contract experience." But they didn't say that. They said they are pursuing a more creative candidate.

I can't let this stuff get to me, and I rarely do, but every now and then the rejections are so nonsensical that I think it must be me, it must be something I really do not understand, maybe there's a language barrier or maybe I just smell funny. But I need to learn what it is that I don't understand. Because I really, really, really need a job. 

Geeze, seven rejections in one day? Good grief. Anyone read anything about suicide rates among the unemployed lately? I stopped looking at that data because it was too upsetting to me. But if you're wondering why or how someone could kill themselves over a job rejection, now you know. It's frustrating, confusing and nonsensical.

I dunno. I really do not know what to do. Obviously I'm doing something very, very wrong in the job hunt and I would love (love) helpful personal insight and advice as to what I'm doing wrong, what skills I need to acquire, what personality traits I need to develop...anything.  

Remember when I asked for advice on a topic for a memoir symposium? I was asked, invited, to contribute to a group writing project. It has very (very) loose parameters. I just need to write about a real-life experience. That's pretty much the sum total of the project brief.

I had a lot of time to settle on a topic and write it.

So, this is why I'm not a real writer.

I cannot swutting choose a topic.

All your ideas were great, thank you. I thought I was too close to the material and some unbiased, outside opinions would point me in a good direction.

I've started at least 20 versions on as many topics.

I have dedicated evenings, set aside specific hours, and devoted time and thought to this. For instance, right now I'm supposed to be focusing on choosing a topic and organizing (yet another) outline.

I'm blogging instead because I'm thinking maybe writing about writing will give me some clarity and lead to an epiphany.

Mainly I just have to settle down and settle on a topic. The rest will fall into place.

I'm not staring down the deadline, but I am staring down my self-imposed deadline. I wanted the thing written by next week. 

This project is supposed to be fun. But it's also an honor and a privilege to be asked to join the project, and that's the facet that's causing the indecision. I want to get this right. And not look like an idiot. Which is unusual for me because I'm generally not concerned about whether or not I look or sound like an idiot. (I live on the assumption that I am, most of the time, an idiot, so why fight it or worry about it?)

Adding to the pressure are all the Twitter posts from the other contributors. They're posting excerpts and making comments about how wonderful, insightful and enriching the project is for them. And I'm sitting here with 20+ false starts and no decision on subject matter.

I'm starting to suspect the crux of the issue is that, while I'm open and not afraid to lay my soul to bare for the entire Universe to read, there is an emotional boundary that I'm not ready or willing to shatter. At least publicly. I know how that sounds, coming from me, here, but blogs are different. Part confessional, part rant, blogs offer catharsis. And anonymity. Sure, you know a lot about me. But you don't know me in real life. A blog is a cyber burqa that allows me freedom to roam openly in public while protecting my modesty. It's easy to say anything when no one knows who you are. I'm really just a coward who can't afford professional therapy. I still have no idea why you read it (but thank you), but you choose to visit, I presume of your own free will. (Whose crazier? The lunatic who writes their lunacy as catharsis, or the people who willingly read the writings of a lunatic? I'm honestly asking, not pointing fingers.)

This memoir project, on the other hand, is a different situation. People will read it as part of a group of memoirs written by some really, really good writers. Older writers, younger writers, people with some fantastic life experiences. Memoir-worthy life experiences. Inspiring, educational, sentimentally rewarding life experiences. Me? Not so much.

And that, I believe, is compounding the issue. I don't mind telling you that I'm a loser who couldn't find and keep a man, ditto a job, ditto a home, ditto pretty much everything else in my life. I don't care that you know that about me, in fact I'm glad you know that about me. And I don't really care who else knows that about me...but...the point of a collection of life-stories is to provide insight and inspiration. The sad reality about my life is that the only take-away, the only inspiration it spawns is: Do not do what I did. Yes. My life is a cautionary tale. And I'm okay with that, but in the context of a memoir project where all the other contributions are uplifting and sweet and joyous, or at least insightful and educational, my cautionary tales don't really fit in with the group. And that, of course, is the story of my life. Oh the irony.

In hindsight, now, I never would have agreed to participate in the project. I thought that I thought it through, I thought it would be fun (which is what it's supposed to be) but now I'm regretting that I accepted the invitation to participate. It's not fun for me. It's forcing me to look at my life, from start to now, to find one good life experience to share, and all I'm finding are cautionary tales, words of warning.

I'm trying a different approach. I'm working backwards, reviewing possible take-away lessons or positive emotional responses, and then selecting a life experience that spawned it. Seems like a good idea, right? Well. Not so much. 

"Pay attention in school, study hard, take initiative and work on extra projects, get good grades," seems like a decent, inspirational message, right? Normally, yes, it would be. Positive things will happen as a result. Usually. Except for me. Where did all that thirst for knowledge, extra credit assignments and good grades get me? Unemployed and homeless and a spinster. Not exactly a ringing endorsement for education and intellectual pursuits.

"Listen to your heart, set goals, follow your vision," is good advice, right? I think so. Except. That's exactly what I did. And where did it get me? Unemployed and homeless and a spinster.

"Do unto others as you would have done unto you. Be kind. Love unconditionally with compassion and gusto." Also very good advice. Except. That's what I do. And where did it get me? See where this is going?

How can I offer up any life experience as a positive, inspiring memoir when every aspect of my life is an abysmal failure? I haven't exactly triumphed at anything that matters.

When the invitation to participate was extended to me, I did think about a lot of this. But I didn't think it through as fully as I should have before agreeing to participate.

I'm honestly thinking about using the experience of trying to write about a life experience as my life experience. Not exactly inspiring, but certainly educational, the lesson being, "Don't bite off more emotional baggage than you can handle if you can't afford professional therapy."