An Inch of Dust

I just finished tweaking my resume. It was terrifying.

The last time I wrote one was in December of 2011, going by the information that my Mac gave me, and I hadn’t thought about the thing since then. When I dug it out from wherever documents end up, it was not only in need of some work, it was also in the Pages format that no one but Mac users can open. Great.

After a bracing luncheon of Salsa Verde Doritos and a Coke (don’t judge, everyone has their own comfort food), I sat down to get to work. Having had no job for almost a year, I immediately started composing a new cover letter that highlights my strengths and absolutely does not mention the words “breakdown,” “meds,” or “what the fuck am I doing applying for a job aaaagh.” I was having trouble with it, so I turned on Depeche Mode.

As an aside, I discovered last night that Mister E hates Depeche Mode. This potentially marriage-ending information came to light when I drank some vodka and got the great idea to paint my nails a shade of eggplant so dark that it looks black. I requested his clove-flavored vaporizer and Depeche Mode, to which he replied with a prolonged “UGHHHHH.” It’s too late for an annulment, right?

Back to the task at hand, I spent some time trying to decide if I was going to keep the present tense it was written in or change it to past. I really didn’t feel like going through the entire damn thing, so I kept the present tense for the moment. Then I paced back and forth while I tried to put into words my volunteer experience with Band Back Together, which I think is important because it shows I can work with others and organize things.

I agonized over putting my job at the health food store on there but eventually went with it because I was there for almost a year and a half, part of which was concurrent with my job at the teaching hospital. I felt it showed dedication and strength of character, and also that I wasn’t sitting on my chubby butt for the better part of five months. I’ve already got a missing year to explain. Carefully.

With all the pertinent details down and my references updated, I finished up by makin’ it purty. I played with the formatting a little, using the old template as a format, and added a small, tasteful graphic to catch and please the eye.

I put a bird on it.

Now that I’ve sent it to BecominNeurotic for her take on the thing, I’m horribly nervous about it. The thought that it’s going to be going out into the world to try and get me a job makes me want to put some rum in my Coke and call it a day. Only problem is that we don’t have any rum, and we can’t afford for me to go buy some. This is obviously why I need that job. You can’t put sweet tea vodka in a Coke. I mean, you could, but I’m not an alcoholic here.

Next step: sending out the resume.

If no one calls me back for an interview, I’m blaming the bird.


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