Pimpin’ My Resume
It is amazing how our lives are ruled by pieces of paper — newspapers, lottery tickets, toilet paper (especially when it’s not available). Ok, forget the toilet paper. It’s really about the writings on those other forms of compressed tree pulp that often make or break our dreams. For me, the time has come to update that boastful piece of paper known as a resume.
When written just so, a resume doesn’t really do anything except to show that you can almost walk on water. To the potential employer, your resume is read as their chance of finding that perfect employee who does everything for a salary of nothing. If you’re lucky, that new boss might help you fulfill your dreams as well. But you have a better chance touching your fantasy with that lottery ticket than with your resume in most cases.
As I researched how to “walk on water” in the job market without resorting to ice, I came across an important tip. Remember in the story “Logan’s Run”, where society would reward anyone who reached the age of 30 with a spectacular death? In the today’s market, it seems you are rewarded with a type of employment death upon reaching the 45 year mark. (Although that death is more prolonged than spectacular.) So I’ve begun to rewrite my past by removing dates. It’s like lying through the sin of omission. Kind of like filling out a dating profile by failing to mention the hump on your back or by implying that you look a little like Brad Pitt. A “little like” meaning that you have eyes, nose and a mouth but they’re not necessarily of correct shape or in their proper place. Of course, your date, or prospective employer in this case, won’t know until that fateful face-to-face meeting.
Right now, all I need to do is get front of my new, wonderful, soon-to-be boss and sell how great I am at making him or her rich. Did I mention that sales isn’t in my skill set? No matter. This is an election season. There is plenty of material on television to show me how to B.S. my way into high paying, do-nothing jobs. “If you don’t hire me, the terrorists have won.”
Maybe it would be easier to get the government to bail me out. After all, the economy is depending upon me and my money!
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After watching this first presidential debate, I couldn’t help but feel like a vegetarian having to choose between chicken and beef. When I told my friend about my observation, he said that I was being too kind. He felt the same way except he felt more like a vegetarian having to choose between chittlins and rocky mountain oysters …
