Yesterday I applied for 11 jobs. ELEVEN. That's one more than 10. (And a lot more than zero which is the more important statistic.) That also means I wrote 11 cover letters. And I will tell you a secret, I love writing, but I hate cover letters. I mean, you're trying to convince a person to take more than 6 seconds to consider you, much less to hire you for a job, which I feel is a very pressureful task. Perhaps I should keep it simple. It could go like this:
Dear Hiring Manager:
PLEASE JUST GIVE ME A CHANCE BECAUSE I'M AWESOME AND VERY WORTH IT I PROMISE! I'M SPECIAL I'M SPECIAL I'M SPECIAL!
Shoot. I should have thought of this before.
If only I could put my real skills on my resume. I mean, all my counseling experience, fine. My volunteering, yeah, ok. Masters degree? Ehh. There isn't really a section to put things like "really good at decoupage" or "makes a mean grilled cheese" or "kick-a social skills" or "once made a giant cupcake in the shape of a cat" - but I can deal with those not being on there. But what I am really good at, where I really shine, is in the art of impersonation. Which my mom says is because I listen to sounds instead of words. (read: she thinks I don't listen to her. which clearly I do because I remember that she said that. ha.) Doing voices? I'm awesome. Telling stories? Yes. Fabulous. But unless you're looking for a job doing voices for animated films (which I will tell you I wholeheartedly wish I was) those things are not terribly handy.
You see, at a very young age, it became apparent that I was an attention fiend. I wanted to slow dance with the spotlight I loved it so much. Upon approaching the playground in my new neighborhood as a wee one, I am quoted as saying, "Look at all these kids! They are going to be so happy to meet me!" There is a video of my brother's birthday wherein I am trying (and failing) to get someone's attention. When traditional means failed me, clearly the only option was to pull up my dress to show off my fancy undies. I was 17. (Just kidding, that would be weird. I was only like 5. Which isn't weird.)
Now, I like to think I have come a long way and am not quite the attention jezabel I once was (family - please refrain from commenting). I have found reasonable ways to channel my need to be heard, because a 25 year old screaming LOOK AT ME! LISTEN TO ME! is an unhappy combination of trainwreck and hot mess. And it hasn't been socially acceptable for me to lift up my dress for about 20 years now, so that option is out. But just because we grow up doesn't necessarily mean we change. We just find more socially acceptable (read: sneaky) ways to get our needs met (read: get what we want). We find grown up words to say little kid things. Are you starting to see how this works?
I think the reason I have these particular talents has a great deal to do with the fact that I realized that I like words (read: I like to talk). A lot. And the only way I was going to get people to listen to me as much as I wanted them to was if I got really good at it (talking, that is). Not to mention, due to higher-than-normal levels of teen angst, in my high school years I had to stifle all of my natural instincts in order to blend in. (Now, apparently, I'm frantically making up for lost time.) I don't know why I think thats so funny, but I do. At the root of my present love for writing, a good story, and a superb impersonation is nothing more than my childhood search for fame paired with a reaction to my high school need to not rock boats. That's funny to me.
Makes me wonder about people who are good at stuff... what playground moment is at the root of their success?
For those of you who don't know me as well as others, I like hyperbole. (read: I like to be dramatic.) Please don't read this and think, "wow, she thinks really highly of herself," or "wow, every time I am talking to her she is probably just waiting for the next time its her turn to talk." False. I like laughing as much as I like making people laugh, and I like hearing as much as I like being heard.
So there. That will teach you to make assumptions about people. Shame on you.
Yes, I know I just made the assumption that you were judging me, but that's different.
To sum it up:
I like to talk. In order to get people to listen to me, I had to make it interesting. So here we are.
(aaaaaaaaand I think I just found my new blog tagline.)