Since I quit my job in Tucson, I’ve had my fill of fiction.

I’ve been writing and rewriting resumes and cover letters with enough half truths and double speak to make George Orwell cringe.

Did you know I’m a “strategic-thinker, goal oriented, data-driven” automaton without feelings or sickness or anger issues? My history of “success” is unmatched and all my co-workers, clients and colleagues love me like their favorite alcoholic uncle.

Well, maybe that’s not the message this Bullshit website conveys, but that’s exactly what my LinkedIn page portrays — in corporate speak and one 15-year-old picture. It’s the only picture I have that has me half-smiling (while sober) with some streaks of brown hair. It was shot in 2005 by Ray, our part-time QA guy, and full-time soft-porn photographer who spent weekends talking 18-year-old runaway girls into posing “for free” (and mostly naked) to build up their “portfolio.”

He was the perfect choice to capture my image for our “executive team slide” on our VC presentation. At least he was smart enough to get up on a ladder and shoot down on me to hide my double chin. He set me in the shade so I didn’t “wash-out” like a pale-faced, white-haired ghost. Just before he snapped the image, he showed me the latest “portfolio” on his camera to capture just the right “hunger” in my eyes.

That kind of shit excites the venture capitalists. They only want to invest in people who look “eager.”

Resume Redo

The resume has been through 3 major revisions in style and content. I started with a simple list of titles, work dates and companies. Seemed clear, simple and true. It was ignored.

Version 2 added some “accomplishments” — mostly taking credit for the work of others (it’s impossible to do almost anything alone) and leaving out any of the bad stuff — failures, cost overruns and conflicts that plague anything that is done in the real world. Got a couple of calls.

Finally, switched the format. Put it in a V-shape to make it more readable, and lopped off the first 12 years of my career — ageism is real, fuckers. Apparently, meeting societies’ needs in jobs like teaching and newspaper reporting don’t count for shit anyway.

Cover-up letters

Then came the cover letters. My first rounds simply added some color to the things I have done for the last 30 years or so, with just a hint that I had read the job description and could see myself in that role.

Truth is since I got married in 1987, I haven’t had a job that I didn’t “like.” They got me out of the house and gave me something meaningful to do. The money helped the Sugar Mama make the bills.

So just about every job description that doesn’t include sales, or customer service, or buying a fast-food franchise looks good to me.

But the more cover letters, the more I have twisted myself into every dirty little descriptive detail and spun every shortcoming into a “strength.”

“I would bring fresh eyes to being the brand manager for your Make-up for Mutts company. I know nothing about cosmetics and very little about animals. But even I know my little bitch needs thicker eyelashes. While I don’t speak Mandarin, I’m sure my dedication to your mission to glamorize bug-eyed, half-breed French bulldogs and hairless Tibetan cats would make me communicate well with your Chinese suppliers.”

For the three readers of this blog who asked “why no new posts”? That’s the reason. By noon on Wednesday, I’m so steeped in corporate speak, resume re-writes and cover letter crap that I just can’t get my fingers to type out any more Bullshit for the week.

Once I land that dream job (Make-up for Mutts) I’m sure my days will be filled with productive tasks that make a difference in this world. Who can really love an ugly dog?

Then my time and attention in the evening can return to these rants. But right now, I just can’t stomach any more Bullshit than looking for a job.