Monday – Bad Idea # 783: An Honest Résumé
Oct. 26th, 2009 01:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninanevermore.
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From the age of 10, my middle brother always knew he wanted to be a civil engineer, just like my father. He never waivered in this, got his engineering degree, and now works for the same company that employed my father for the last 25 years of his career, doing pretty much the same job as his old man. His dream was pretty straight forward and it was a practical sort of dream to have. In fact, it's the best sort of dream to have: one that guarantees a steady paycheck. He is a boring, lackluster sort of guy, and was blessed to have a boring, lackluster sort of dream. We should all be so lucky.
When I was 10, I told everyone I wanted to be a writer. It's all I ever wanted to be. Growing up, I never waivered in this, at least until enough people told me I should waiver, because writing will not pay the bills in most cases. In a stab at being pragmatic, I got my degree in journalism, because journalism is a pragmatic sort of writing. But I never wanted to be a journalist, and have never worked in the field. Just like my civil engineer of a brother cannot do the job of a computer engineer or an electrical engineer, a reporter is not the same as a poet or a novelist. They all use words, but not in the same way. So with a B.A. that did not translate into useful employment skills except for the field it relates to, I fell into administrative work. Not as an administrative assistant, which is what they call secretaries these days, but administering things like documents, licensing, due diligence, and the like.
Taking a look at my résumé, it occurs to me that it is an outstanding artistic achievement: it is a lie composed entirely of facts. It says what I can do and what I've done, but skillfully hides who I am. If I were to write my real résumé, it would look something like this:
I've read that the wife of horror writer Stephen King waited tables and supported him lock, stock and barrel while he worked full time on his first block-buster novel, Carrie. Unfortunately, I did not marry a Tabitha King. On one hand, my husband says, "I want you to do something that makes you happy, honey. Whatever it is, I want you to be happy doing it." The next thing he says is, "But you need to find something that pays soon, because we have bills to take care of."
Really, he needs to make up his mind.
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.
.
From the age of 10, my middle brother always knew he wanted to be a civil engineer, just like my father. He never waivered in this, got his engineering degree, and now works for the same company that employed my father for the last 25 years of his career, doing pretty much the same job as his old man. His dream was pretty straight forward and it was a practical sort of dream to have. In fact, it's the best sort of dream to have: one that guarantees a steady paycheck. He is a boring, lackluster sort of guy, and was blessed to have a boring, lackluster sort of dream. We should all be so lucky.
When I was 10, I told everyone I wanted to be a writer. It's all I ever wanted to be. Growing up, I never waivered in this, at least until enough people told me I should waiver, because writing will not pay the bills in most cases. In a stab at being pragmatic, I got my degree in journalism, because journalism is a pragmatic sort of writing. But I never wanted to be a journalist, and have never worked in the field. Just like my civil engineer of a brother cannot do the job of a computer engineer or an electrical engineer, a reporter is not the same as a poet or a novelist. They all use words, but not in the same way. So with a B.A. that did not translate into useful employment skills except for the field it relates to, I fell into administrative work. Not as an administrative assistant, which is what they call secretaries these days, but administering things like documents, licensing, due diligence, and the like.
Taking a look at my résumé, it occurs to me that it is an outstanding artistic achievement: it is a lie composed entirely of facts. It says what I can do and what I've done, but skillfully hides who I am. If I were to write my real résumé, it would look something like this:
Objective:
To work and play with words on a daily basis. To dance with words. To wrap words around me. To dive into language, delve into paragraphs, grapple with grammar, and muse with the muse for a living.
Profile:
I'll work my butt off for whoever signs my paychecks. I pour myself into whatever I do, whether I love it or hate it. For the past 15+ years I have poured myself into things I didn't love, and for the most part I did those things very well at the expense of dying inside a little every day. I'm at the halfway point of my life, now. I'd like to live a little each day, and love doing it.
Skills:
- Can write poetry and prose that will make you laugh and cry, sometimes at the same time.
- Possess a wry wit that can eviscerate or elevate my target, depending on my mood.
- Can make everyday, real life people seem as interesting as fictional characters.
- Can make fictional characters who relate well to real life people.
- Can find the silver lining to every cloud and the cloud in every sunny day, optimizing each to the desired dramatic effect.
- Possess all the usual computer skills required to work in any office environment, and have a knack for picking up the ones I don't have with ease. These have allowed me to pass for "useful" in varied office environments for some years now.
Work History:
Every job I've ever had has left me saying, "I don't know what I want to do with my life, but I know it's not this." I'm very good at the role of Administrative Flunky, and can play it with a straight face. Can do most Administrative Flunky tasks with my eyes closed, including composing professional-sounding and informative emails, answering phones, creating and maintaining colorful and accurate spreadsheets, inputting mundane data into mundane databases, and wearing a bright and cheerful demeanor for people I secretly distain. Am also very good at making coffee, if called upon to do so.
References and list of employers I've for whom I've flunked for years at a time available upon request.
I've read that the wife of horror writer Stephen King waited tables and supported him lock, stock and barrel while he worked full time on his first block-buster novel, Carrie. Unfortunately, I did not marry a Tabitha King. On one hand, my husband says, "I want you to do something that makes you happy, honey. Whatever it is, I want you to be happy doing it." The next thing he says is, "But you need to find something that pays soon, because we have bills to take care of."
Really, he needs to make up his mind.
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no subject
Date: 2009-10-27 08:14 pm (UTC)One side effect of being home is that my 5-year-old son no longer hides when he sees me and has started telling me he loves me and offering me kisses. I'm not looking for high pay or tons of overtime; I'm looking for enough pay and close to home this time around. Working for Big Death didn't leave me much time for Life.
no subject
Date: 2009-10-28 03:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-28 03:55 am (UTC)