Spring and applying for jobs has kept me from my writing. Well, that and only having 24 hours in a day, which seems really short most days. My daughter is chewing on some clean laundry, so I have a second to write.
Applying for jobs is tough. Selling myself seems so juvenile. I feel like I keep jumping up and down with my hands in the air screaming, “Pick me! Oooo, ooo, ooo! Pick me!” [Is it okay for babies to eat used dryer sheets? I hope so.]
Jobs are notoriously difficult to come by these days…an ode to recession:
Oh, stupid financiers, why did you fuck us?
Haven’t we all suffered enough at your merciless, greedy hands?
Please stop stealing our money and lives. We will get you back later,
because what comes around, goes around (might just stop spending,
how you like us now?)
In addition to broadening my job search, I have increased the breadth of what I will apply for. I can do almost anything now, and have like, 20 versions of my resume. Need a doctor? I can do that? Looking for an experienced IT fellow? I’m your guy! Oh! Did you just say you are looking for someone who can make coffee and type 16,000 words per minute? And you pay $16K per year? Awesome! I can do that and sing songs to my baby and write my blog. Look at me! [Was that barf or slobber?]
I am smart and capable, a quick study and a lover of work and words, hire me to do anything, please.