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Working on a resume is not one of the funnest things to do.

Considering that the average writer has no hopes of ever getting published, one needs to make a living in order to pay for the countless cups of coffee needed in order to come up with the witty banter for the reading audience. And, considering the fact that the preceding sentence is entirely too long and contains entirely too many prepositions, my chance of making it is slim to none. So, I must deal with the realities of life, and find a job that pays me in something other than walnuts.

First things first. The ever impressive resume.

Rule #1. Buy the most expensive paper you can buy, no matter that plain white computer paper looks just fine. Extra points if it says “fine weave” or “made by african village children who have an exceptional talent for paper making”.

Rule #3. Any job was an important job.
Babysitter= Human life supervisor. Handled destructive, if not lethal, equipment. Gained experience in negotiating with irrational entities.


I am lucky, I will admit, when it comes to the employment issue. Most of the jobs I’ve had have contributed to my life more than I ever imagine. I’m met some of the most brilliant, strange, humorous, and normal people this world has to offer. I’ve had jobs that gave me extra pocket money, I’ve held jobs that didn’t pay rent. I’ve cleaned up crap, and I’ve saved lives.

Most importantly, jobs enable the average joe and joanne to have some control over there existance. Structure. Some shy from it, some crave it. Although its all the same equation in the end: work=paycheck. Or at least you hope so. So, besides the pursuit of happiness, the pursuit of THE job is of great importance, especially when you are of a certain 20 something age.