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.