who am i, anyway? (am i my résumé?)
Yeah, I never saw "A Chorus Line," but I like that lyric. And it's ever-so pertinent right now.
The very idea of having to encapsulate myself in a two-page résumé sickens me. Not because I think, "I'm so vibrant; I can't be bound by paper and ink!", but because I realize how directionless and meaningless everything I've done is. I need a summer job, and it's killing me because I can't find anything. I've been going to all these workshops on how to write a winning résumé, how to ace your interview, blah bling bloo. But I feel that it's all useless, because I'm the most unemployable person in the world. That's not exactly true, but it's how I feel when I look at all my friends who have good jobs. Not jobs being bitched at because you overcharged 50 cents on the butter, or where you have to start at 5:30 a.m. Just nice, normal jobs.
I worked out of an office last summer, but I spent minimal time actually in the office. Oh, how I envied those office kids. I'd come in out of the heat, sweating from walking around all day, and I'd see the girls in their cute little skirts, drinking Fruitopia and casually filing papers. Every day, I'd watch this one girl come in, sit at her desk in the corner, do her work quietly, eat an apple at her desk, chat with a few folks, and go home. She had her own desk, and she was sorting important files, so she could put a sign on her desk that said "Don't Touch!" How nice to have space of your own, and a civilized job, where you are treated as a human being. I would love a desk job. To me, it wouldn't be boring. It would be true love.