Dear Large Faceless Temp Agency:
As you will see from my attached resume, I once had a real job and made real money. This was long ago. My IQ has been dropping exponentially since my decision to stay home and parent my children full-time, which is a real shame. However, I hope to relearn how to tie my own shoes, someday.
In the meantime, there are bills to pay and small people to clothe and I would like to start working for money again. My hysterectomy scar has, unfortunately, ruled out stripping as a viable option. Likewise, I have the stink of motherhood on me and will never again work as an engineer. And so, I turn to your organization, filled with hope.
Perhaps you can find me a nice assignment for minimum wage. There was a time when I would’ve scoffed at such a thing, true. But no longer! I will type. I will file. I will try very very hard not to weep when reminding myself that I went to grad school for the pleasure of being treated like an imbecile. Plus I have a very pleasing phone voice.
I look forward to meeting with you and discussing my unbelievably limited future. No need to thank me; my therapist’s shiny new luxury car is all I need to know that I’m changing the world in meaningful ways.
Best Regards,
Mir
I’ve sent out so many cover letter (or, as I like to call them please-hire-me-I-have-minimum-credit-card-payments-to-make letters) exactly like this and never ever get a call back – weird – you would think a company would appreciate honesty – but no, all they want to see is “skilled multi-tasker” and “proficient in the microsoft office suite of products) –
p.s. – I [heart] your blog
They never read the application letter anyway. Attach a three-volume curriculum, including index and an appendix compiling letters of recommendation signed by international mafia chiefs. They’ll call you.
First time on your blog. It’s cool.
Um…can I borrow it?
I hear they’re looking for Sanks at the Biohive ;)
Did you see the article today in the news about the British study that determined women exponentially LOSE their prospects of marriage as their IQ climbs? I’m becoming convinced the same is true for the potential of having a job nowadays…
About 4 years ago I was EXACTLY where you are! I promise it will get better, and all the looking and filling out of applications will eventually pay off! Something will fall in your lap, (no not pizza) but some sort of real job, that will either be the bomb…or lead to one that is even better. Trust me.
I ended up in the middle of a discussion about potty training with my mother and my cousins. It turns out that I was potty trained before my sisters, so I’m putting it on my resume: fast learner, easily trained.
Ah UNDER employed – even though I am working I am still in that situation. Some things never change. Hang in there – just when you least expect it things get better.
Dear Mr. “The Donald” Trump:
I’ve seen you and your bad hair on TV, and I’ve noticed while reading financial news that you can’t exactly run a casino.
Here’s the drill: Not only can I take care of two children, but I can ALSO find time to write endlessly entertaining pieces on my blog. (And blogs, as you know, are now WAY more popular than casinos, you put your money in the wrong place, little man)
So Let’s Make a Deal: I’ll save your casinos from certain financial ruin (which I can probably do with my eyes closed, it can’t be any harder than potty training or baking cookies for school parties on short notice) and you give me a couple million dollars. M’kay?
Thanks, you’re a peach,
Mir
Wonder how many whackos will email you because you posted “pleasing phone voice”.
Happy Birthday to Monkee too!!
Mir, If your caesarian scar is the only thing keeping you from stripping, then you’re young enough that something will turn up! If that were my only sign of childbearing I’d be thrilled. My baby will turn five this year and your account of that pulled on my heartstrings. I just found your site earlier this week (okay, it’s only Tuesday) and it’s a good one.
“My hysterectomy scar has, unfortunately, ruled out stripping as a viable option.”
If you’d lower your strip club standards, that scar wouldn’t hold you back anymore!
Hi, I had to come out of lurking today to tell you that you make me laugh, laugh, laugh! I like your sense of humour. (Can I borrow it? I lost mine.) I must have found you via Trish Wilson who has the only blog I check daily.
I too have wondered if my IQ stood between me and a job. I was never in so much demand as I was before I got my degree. Now I’m a leper.
Perhaps it was the First Class Standing. Perhaps it was the fact that I earned it in two years. Perhaps it was the 93% I got in Statistics even though I only had junior high level math at the time I started the course. (I wouldn’t have had the guts to take this course voluntarily – it was compulsory). Whatever. I am now more likely to become a bag lady than achieve gainful employment.
I had worked McJob type contracts for the government. When it was time to hire for a permanent opening, I watched them train someone for it. I entered the competition anyway and had a particularly disturbing interview that was full of questions only a trained person could answer – about features of a particular password-protected computer program, a confidential in-house report, etc… Natch, I didn’t get the job. Came second. Ms. Trained-for-it got it. Then they couldn’t figure out why I would not take another contract with them again… Imagine, on previous contracts, I’d installed, customized and debugged computer programs nobody there had ever used before – even fixed network problems (and I’m not a tech), and was well liked by customers and staff. Must have scared management to death though… I now label myself “retired”.
My husband (all that stands between me and destitution) called to me about something he saw on TV: he heard that a woman’s IQ goes up temporarily after she gives birth. I quipped, “That’s when she realizes what an idiot she married”. I won’t praise my husband too highly. He’s a man with all the status and privilege that maleness brings. He is a good companion though, which is more than I could say of most men around here.
I am a divorced and remarried mother of two grown up kids in university living in small-town Canada. Lucky to be alive after an ex like mine.
You’re from Chicago, right? This summer I gave a boost to a fellow from Chicago with a dead truck battery – in a remote spot near Quetico Park. I had visions of Ted Bundy, Serial Killer, when he flagged me down near a parking lot in a very remote location and tried to get into the car. I was alarmed to say the least! But I opened the window a crack, got his story, and followed him to his truck where he had two children and – a dead battery. I wondered how he had managed with two kids in the park during a deadly windstorm with downed trees, etc. He had a “single father” aura about him, along with the reasons for that status. Thank goodness I was too old for him!
Well, I hope I’ve found a new web pal.
Margaret
Sigh.
Sigh.
Sigh.