home | | | | | |archive | | | | | |profile | | | | | |notes | | | | | |previous | | | | | |next

red, red colon

I saw a job posting, Friday, that interested me. So I dug out my resume, which I haven't looked at in about seven years, and it's making me ill. What's that line from "Catch-22"? Something like, "People always remarked about how unremarkable he was."

I am quietly dying at my present job. I am too comfortable there. I want to do something new. And I want more money. This new job would bring me an extra ten grand a year and would be a shorter commute from secret motel.

I bet they get hundreds of resumes in response. I'll try to get mine together, send it off just so I can tell myself I tried, and hope they don't respond and I can forget the whole thing.

Job searching, like dating or apartment hunting, is about as pleasant as passing a mile of barbed wire through the colon.

previous | next