There's optimism that comes easy – like the little flutter of hope we all felt when Federal Reserve Chairman Ben Bernanke announced recently that the recession, in all likelihood, is over.

Then there's optimism you have to work at – like the game face Mike O'Driscoll of Biddeford put on last week as he reflected on what it's like to be out of work for three months and counting.

"It's a psychological ordeal," O'Driscoll, a married father of three who worked for 15 years in supply-chain management before he was laid off last June. "You go through the whole thing of, 'Why was I let go? Was it something I did?' Then you find your way back up and say it's time to move on."

Welcome to the Tuesday-morning Unemployed Professionals group at the Maine Career Center on Lancaster Street in Portland: A place where whining won't get you far, but a good 30-second "elevator speech" will. A place where what you've done pales in importance to what you can do. A place where the misery of unemployment, these days more than ever, at least finds company.

They talk about the latest job fair, or what should go at the top of a resume. They talk about which online job-search engines work, and which don't. On this day, they even talked about organizing a food drive for those less fortunate than themselves.

"We try not to look at the masses and focus on the individual," said Cindy Edwards, who has run the group for three years. "This is the place to come and work as much out as you're willing to share."

And share they do.

For two solid hours, each of the 28 people in Tuesday's group took a deep breath, stood up at the front of the room and rolled out the "elevator speech" – a rapid-fire "self-commercial," as Edwards likes to call it, in which you explain to anyone and everyone why they'd be crazy not to hire you.

Some nailed it. Others stumbled. Some remembered to state their names not just at the beginning, but also at the end. Others forgot. Some focused on their "transferable skills." Others highlighted their can-do attitude.

Everyone, upon heading back to their seats, got a hearty round of applause.

"I've gone up there and cried," said Allie Fichera of South Portland, "A lot of people have gone up there and cried – at least initially."

Fichera worked for years as an administrative assistant for the Department of Defense in Washington, D.C., before moving to Maine in 2007 and going to work for a law firm. Then came the recession, she said, and the dreaded "last person in, first person out" downsizing.

Now, as she beats the bushes for a job – her last face-to-face interview was in July, when she was one of five finalists out of 200 applicants for an administrative assistant opening – Fichera is also working to get her master's degree in counseling at the University of Maine.

The weekly Unemployed Professionals group, she said, has been a godsend.

"It totally got me to realize I'm not alone," Fichera said. Without it, she said, "you feel like an embarrassment to your family and friends that 'I don't have a place to go today, I don't have a job today."'

Julie Allex of Portland last worked as a project manager for a semiconductor firm. She "takes a different spin" on her elevator speech each week and on this day wondered aloud "if anyone understood what I said."

She'll find out this week when she gets an evaluation form back from every person in the room – including the no-nonsense facilitator.

"I try to get them to see that all of the skills they need to get the next job, they already have and they've used all their life," Edwards said. "It's just a matter of focusing all that energy on them right now."

Hence the flip chart of the front of the room that reads: "1) You, You, You. 2) You again. 3) Oh yeah, did I mention you? 4) No, really. It's about you."

And the poster on the wall...