As I’ve been stating all week, apologies for my perceived “distance” from blogging, but things are quite stressful at the moment. It’s times like these I wish I had minions to prepare funny blog posts for me, because I’m stretched pretty thin between working extra days, trying to fill the emptying room in my apartment, and trying to budget money that I don’t really have since I’m now “head of the household” and responsible for all future bills until I move. I could use a better job now. Anyone know of any openings in the Los Angeles area that wouldn’t stunningly shred my resume and cover letter upon discovering this website? Oh man, if only I’d listened to all those CNN/CareerBuilder articles about screwing yourself out of a job by sharing unflattering materials on the Internet!
As I sit here, staring at my resume, my mind wanders to an article that appeared on CNN (via CareerBuilder) in 2006, long before I started calling attention to the dynamic duo’s outrageously bad series of employment-related “articles” (I use that term lightly, since they are really just a full-page advertisement for CareerBuilder). Published in 2006, it contains the 25 fatal words that should never be included in one’s resume. The first half of the article is completely fucking useless, as it tries to summarize resume writing with the English 101 mantra: “show, don’t tell.” So when referencing my 11 years of retail experience I should replace “handled management-level duties” with “filled soda machines with ample change, and drove a mile to the bank to make deposits”? No, I’m pretty sure the former sounds way more professional than the latter, oh wise sages from CareerBuilder! Or when detailing my time working at the recording studio I could say I moved the owner’s two-hundred pound elliptical machine from the second floor of the guests’ quarters to the second floor of the studio instead of “became familiar with recording studio equipment and techniques”. Hmm…okay.
Writing a resume is an exercise in futility. No matter how I word it, no matter how many bulleted points or accomplishments I list, I come away feeling like the first twenty-five years of my life have been inconsequential. I’m never experienced enough for the position. Or I move to Los Angeles and all the good job openings I find are in New York. It’s as if these companies I want to work for only care if I’ve gone to a fancy school, have a good resume, and work hard. Why don’t they care about my being a slacker and wanting to push paper and play on the Internet all day?
Or, as Matt puts it, your resume winds up in the hands of a resume farming operation conducted by a temp at a recruiting/staffing agency that wants to use you as a commodity. Maybe a job looks cool and legitimate, but once you get called in for an interview the person you meet will act like you’re crazy for ever applying to a specific job, because they just want to use you to fill a job as a temp at one of their partner companies.
Sometimes I wonder how my friends from high school all landed such cushy jobs, and then I remember that they’re all rich assholes whose families have influence in various fields. Then I remember why I stopped being friends with them, and I begin to pity myself for not trying harder. After that, it’s time to drag myself out of bed and eat some breakfast. After a few more hours of misplaced anger and general melancholia, maybe I’ll go buy a brownie from the coffeeshop. Then I’ll remember that I need to get a job that pays well, and look at my resume for a few hours, perhaps while trying to write a blog entry or watch the Mets bullpen blow another lead. Throw in another meal and maybe a phone call to a friend, and you’ve just lived an entire day in my shoes. Pathetic.
Remember when this page was actually a place where I talked about big ideas? Now all I do is talk about bullshit.
