And if we never get around to contacting you... well that's just tough shit.
This job search is like a boulder crushing my meek little soul at the rate of 1" per day. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch*. And then about every three days, a helium balloon of hope comes along, a shiny helium ballon of hope with "I might be qualified for that!" written on it in big bold shiny letters, and attaches itself to the boulder and lifts it - oh, but not an inch, nay - 1/3 of an inch. (Which you would enter into a cell in Excel as 0 1/3. (I'm learning Excel. Guess Why.))
Why, please tell me, have I been googling and monstering and searching away for months and maybe even a year or so by this point and not finding anything and then all of a sudden it's like,
Monster: Say, here's a job you'd be qualified for and probably actually enjoy and that has health insurance attached.
Me: Really, Monster? OMG^, you're right!
Monster: and - oh, look! It's been posted for a month! Heh, they're probably wrapping up the interviews by now!
Me: [deluded] Well, it's so perfect in every way except for that last fact that you just mentioned that I should probably whip up a cover letter and then spend the next five workdays staring at the phone!
Monster: [patting me on the head] You do that, dear. In the meantime, please be tricked into giving your home phone number to the Army.
On the bright side, it turns out I'm qualified for things. Two things. But still, that doesn't even include jobs for which you have to say "Do you want fries with that?," which is the only job about 7 million people told me I'd be able to get with a Philosophy degree*^. And then repeated when I switched to an English major.
*That's right - my soul is crunchy. It's made out of Saltines.
^ I don't really say this.
*^ Oh, haha, people. That's not old.
This job search is like a boulder crushing my meek little soul at the rate of 1" per day. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch*. And then about every three days, a helium balloon of hope comes along, a shiny helium ballon of hope with "I might be qualified for that!" written on it in big bold shiny letters, and attaches itself to the boulder and lifts it - oh, but not an inch, nay - 1/3 of an inch. (Which you would enter into a cell in Excel as 0 1/3. (I'm learning Excel. Guess Why.))
Why, please tell me, have I been googling and monstering and searching away for months and maybe even a year or so by this point and not finding anything and then all of a sudden it's like,
Monster: Say, here's a job you'd be qualified for and probably actually enjoy and that has health insurance attached.
Me: Really, Monster? OMG^, you're right!
Monster: and - oh, look! It's been posted for a month! Heh, they're probably wrapping up the interviews by now!
Me: [deluded] Well, it's so perfect in every way except for that last fact that you just mentioned that I should probably whip up a cover letter and then spend the next five workdays staring at the phone!
Monster: [patting me on the head] You do that, dear. In the meantime, please be tricked into giving your home phone number to the Army.
On the bright side, it turns out I'm qualified for things. Two things. But still, that doesn't even include jobs for which you have to say "Do you want fries with that?," which is the only job about 7 million people told me I'd be able to get with a Philosophy degree*^. And then repeated when I switched to an English major.
*That's right - my soul is crunchy. It's made out of Saltines.
^ I don't really say this.
*^ Oh, haha, people. That's not old.
<< Home