I applied for a job this week that intrigued me. The listing was titled ‘Writer’ and the description pretty much boiled down to ‘Write creative stuff and be awesome.” Obviously I knew that was me, so I moved into JobSearch Phase 2: Interwebbery. (JobSearch Phase 1: Accidents is really just Googling until something that is neither porn nor cats with pancakes on their heads shows up. Then I try to go work there.)
I Googled the company. Not so much more information there, really. I mean, I did manage to determine that it is a marketing company. And also that they have a lot of pictures with booze logos and DJs and people in very hip clothes. Presumably this means they are cool people with cool jobs that do cool things. Oh, good, I can do that. I mean, obviously I’m cool, right? My mom thinks so.
So, JobSearch Phase 2: Interwebbery (subset: CREEP). As every good company should do, they put the names of their employees on their website. This is vital for those of us that like to find out what sort of people we’re asking to work with. Facebook, Google+, LinkedIn. I hit ’em all and I didn’t do so bad. I even had a friend in common with one of the now very stalked employees, but unfortunately it was the sort of former client of a former boss connection that social media encourages despite the relative lack of cultural value. Even so, I did not uncover anything that would make me second guess how awesome I might be with this awesome company. (To be honest, beyond outright cannibalism, there isn’t much a profile picture could do to scare me off.)
If you’ve read the About Me section then you know that I don’t have a job. I want a job. I like jobs. They pay for things. As a gigabuhzillion other Americans have been doing, I have carefully crafted resumes and cover letters that I thought would make me look like a clear frontrunner. I would like to believe it is NOT my skill as a writer that has failed me in this, but as I have no job, I do have to wonder what I’ve been doing wrong. Clearly the bulleted and abbreviated lists of my noteworthy accomplishments just don’t scream, “HIRE THIS ASSHOLE BEFORE SOMEONE ELSE DOES!” And, if I’m being honest, I would very much like a resume that screams in caps and calls me an asshole, but in a very chummy way.
And so this miscarriage was forced, wet and mewling, from my body and on to my cover letter:
“I’m going to try something a little different this time around, so please bear with me. To be completely forthright, I am really good at doing stuff. Really good. And all sorts of stuff.”
Yeah, so wish me luck on that. Elsewise, I will be hunting down rabbits for their feet.
Also, here are two pictures of me with babies. I think that people like to hire people that know people who have babies. The only difference is how people like to see you interact with babies. Lucky me, I have range.