It has now been almost six weeks and I am still not technically employed. I’ve had strange offers for odd jobs here and there, and I’m starting a short babysitting/housekeeping gig on Monday morning, but I still have yet to receive an offer for a real actual job. I have, however, been to more interviews than I care to admit (all in the same exact suit, I might add), and I have discovered a few things about job searching that make me want to kill everybody. In a nice, professional way.

1. The Sales Pitch: If I’m sitting in your office for an interview, chances are that I want the job. So please tell me why interviewers feel the compelling need to sell me on their company? I’ve heard everything from the detailed history of the company to what is served at the annual company picnic (“And crab! We had crab last year! And slides for the kids and a company softball team!”). I don’t care if you serve dogshit at the company picnic; I’m looking for something that will put food on the table now. So you keep your employees in concentration camps and beat them if profits drop? Awesome. I’m in. As long as you’re giving me a paycheck, I don’t care.

2. The Benefits Explanation: In addition to being told repeatedly how wonderful the company is and how happy all of the employees are, I’ve also spent countless hours listening to the health/retirement/leave benefits that I will be offered if given the position. What do these people think I’m going to do? Get up and leave the interview because they won’t give me Arbor Day off or won’t pay for my liposuction? I’M DESPERATE FOR A JOB. I’M NOT PICKY.

3. The Salary Question: Interviewers give no indication in the job advertisement of what they’re willing to pay, and then they ask during the interview what I’m hoping to make. It screws me either way: if I pick a number that is too high, they think I’m out of my mind and immediately remove me from consideration, and if I pick a number too low, they think I’m out of my mind and immediately start planning ways to spend the money they would have otherwise been willing to pay me. Why is it so hard to just tell me what you’re willing to pay? It’s not like it won’t come out eventually – you’re going to have to pay me something at some point – so why are you making me guess now?

4. A Lack Of Personal Questions: Amid all of this talk about the company and the benefits and the salary, the one thing that has been noticeably missing are the questions about me. Now, maybe I’m mistaken, but the general goal of an interview is not for me to learn about you, but the other way around. And yet, in all of the interviews I’ve been to lately (and I’ve been quite promiscuous), I have really only been asked why I left my last job, when can I start this new job, and how long do I plan on staying. Oh, and somebody asked me what I got on my SATs because CLEARLY that is the best indicator of whether or not I will be good at putting stamps on correspondence and using the photocopier. It got so bad at one interview that I started finding random ways to interject information about myself, a tactic that proved to be highly necessary when the interviewer looked up at me in surprise and asked, “You worked in the court system?” Yes. I did. That resume you’re holding? It says that. And a lot of other things. Like my name, for starters. And the phone number that you obviously used to call me. Next time, try reading past the heading.

I’m tired of putting on my suit, finding strange buildings, surreptitiously wiping sweat off my palms, and writing down my references. I’m sick of hearing about what days I’ll have off from a job that I will most likely not even get, and I’m done listening to interviewers tell me all about their education, their backgrounds, and how much they love their company. I’m just ready to be hired by a normal, sane, decently well-paying person who does not expect me to guess my salary, stay with the company forever, or clean their toilets with organic, environmentally-friendly chemicals.