Getting a job is so tedious. Writing a cover letter, putting together a resume, and then recreating them for specific positions—it makes you want to bang your head against the wall. Or at least, it makes me want to. I think it’s because these things are so important, or at least they’ve always been presented as important to me. Being told your resume and cover letter are the first impressions a job will have of you, so they need to be perfect, will do that to you. So, obviously, you want to do it right and put your best foot forward.
I’ve never been good at selling myself on paper. Self-worth issues and all. Plus, there’s something just weird about having to pimp yourself out to some job or corporation, so they can thoroughly fuck you for pennies… Admittedly, a dark and graphic statement. But I’m leaving it.
As I was saying, I try to be my genuine self when I meet people, and they seem to like me well enough. Honestly, I have a better chance of getting the job if I’ve already put my foot in the door physically, than when I rely solely on my resumes and cover letters. While it’s apparently considered a faux pas nowadays to walk into a place to present your credentials, I think it’s one of the few things that’s helped me land jobs in the past. At that point, the person on the other end isn’t just relying on a piece of paper to get a feel for me.
I’m horrible at making my previous jobs sound interesting on resumes. It’s terrible, really, because for someone who writes stories for funsies, you’d think I’d be great at embellishing the act of throwing towels into a washing machine. You’d be wrong. The struggle is real and on me, but I digress. I’ve had to search for sample resumes or, more recently, use ChatGPT to give me an example of what my resume should look like. Every resume I’ve worked on in school or received help with hasn’t looked like the ones I find online. At least not the good ones. So now I have to construct a good resume for a job I vaguely care about, and because I am who I am, it needs to be perfect. But also, because I am who I am, my tendency to overthink makes everything a Herculean mission.
Then there’s the fact that I’m not applying for the job because I necessarily want to, but because I have to. I’m selling myself to a job that I know will take advantage of my work ethic and my desire to please, and won’t pay me what my work is worth. See previous dark statement. But continuing on with that, I have to fake my joy at being in this job. I have to fake wanting it so badly I could die, when I just want my damn money to survive.. See previous dark statement. But also continuing on with that dark statement, I have to fake my joy at being in this job. I have to fake wanting it so badly I could die, when I just want my damn money so I can continue to survive.
I try to at least find jobs that deal with things I like, to make it more bearable. Though, things too close to home actually hurt. Working with children or animals would make me put it all on the line, because they are living beings depending on me and my “colleagues” to keep them safe, happy, and healthy. However, humans are assholes, and money is our only real god, so having to watch a child struggle because some nepo-baby was put in a position they have no business being in and has no clue how to work, makes me want to commit war crimes. I haven’t worked with animals directly, but indirectly, finding strays and trying to get them home, or taking them to the shelter, makes me realize I need to fortify my mental health a lot more to do so. These are jobs where you’re literally the stewards of life and have to watch it get squashed underfoot in real time. Heaven forbid if you care, because you’ll try to wedge yourself between that foot as much as possible to keep those things alive. It requires a kind of strength I don’t yet have.
But yeah.
I will say there’s been at least an upward trajectory in my work history, and pay range, which is good. It’s what you want to show on a resume, from what I understand. And in reality, I know I should be looking to have a career instead of just a job; I just don’t think I’ll be able to have a career in something I love. They’re all jobs to me otherwise. Something I do because I have to survive. And while I’ve had jobs that I’ve enjoyed—whether because of the work itself or the environment—ultimately, I wasn’t there because I wanted to be, I was there because I needed to be.
I hope I’ll experience being somewhere I want to be at least once, before I die.
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