Early last week I was given the unfortunate news that the oilfield was going belly-up, and that I was to be in the first wave of mudlogger lay-offs. It was a bit of a shock to say the least, but I had been anticipating an oil-bust. Though, I had hoped a geoscience master’s would have kept me working longer . . . I found out the hard way that seniority matters; of which, sadly I had none. In fact, I always wanted to avoid the oil-and-gas sector, since climate change is the major issue of our age—but sometimes you have to take the job you need, rather than the job you want.
Here I am nearing the end of week-two: to date, I have applied to more jobs than I care to count; though, perhaps I should. Luckily, I have landed an interview with the State Water Board, which seems like perfect timing—maybe too perfect. Over the past year, if I had interest from a prospective employer, my former employer knew . . . somehow . . . and I would be dispatched to the field. Conspiracy? No. They just worked me endlessly; to the point where I was rarely home for more than a week at a time. Looking back, it was worth the time investment, but I don’t think I would want to do it over again.