Isn't Life Funny?

July, 2004.

I'd been out of work for about a year, and I was in a bad way. We were watching every penny, living on borrowed money, and I was desperate for work. I'd sent my resume all over the country, and then some. I'd even flown to Canada a short time earlier for a job interview.

The interview was in Edmonton, Alberta, far north of the Canadian border. I was worried what it would be like in winter, but it seemed like a great place to work, with cool products to work on and cool people working there. Sadly, they didn't like me as much as I liked them. No hire. And now it was July, and I was still out of work.

I'd gone for an interview in San Francisco, but hadn't heard back from them for some time. I flew to Las Vegas for a job interview.

The interview in Vegas had gone well. I'd have been working on video slot machines, which looked like fun, and something well within my abilities. The guy who interviewed me, the guy I'd be working for, had been a programmer for a long time, as I had, and we had similar experience and philosophies about programming. We had lunch and got along great. I was concerned about what it would be like to work in Vegas in the summer, but that's why they invented air conditioning, right?

I flew home and anxiously awaited word. Why do these things always take so long?

Finally, I got a call from Las Vegas. It was between me and another programmer. Unfortunately, the other programmer was the son of a friend of the CEO. The friend's son got the job. Was I never going to find employment again? The guy on the phone was apologetic, and wished he could have hired me instead. Politics rears its ugly head.

I was bummed, but also relieved. Las Vegas gets hot as Hades in the summer. Connie would melt. Me too, probably.

Then I get a call from the San Francisco company. Did I still want the job? Did I!!! I accepted. It was a job doing PC games. Not far from home. I wouldn't have to move, and it would be a good gig.

Later that same day, I get another call from Las Vegas. He had really wanted to hire me, and he convinced the CEO to hire me as well as the other guy. I had to give him the bad news, that I'd just accepted another job. I felt badly about it, but he'd called too late. Once I commit to something, I don't like to go back on my word. I'm not fickle. And besides, the SF job was better and closer.

Last night I was watching CSI (the Las Vegas version, the one that's ten times better than the other ones), and I thought to myself, "I almost moved there! To Las Vegas! A couple hours difference in who called first, and I'd be in Vegas. In the heat."

And here I sit in a house in Oregon with four more inches of fresh snow. Isn't life funny?


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