hell is endlessly addressing the criteria

I have been freezing my fingers off typing away at my glass and chilly desk these past few weeks. And what project am I working on, I hear you ask. Is it, a really juicy interesting blog post? Is it scrappy but endearing zine text? Is it a letter to one of many family members who could probably do with a thoughtful bit of mail? Or perhaps, yes perhaps, a solemn and serious scholarly article declaring and suggesting and proposing things all over the place.

Nay! It is non of the above. It is a job application.

A job application. For. A. Job. I. Am. Already. Doing.

Oh yes, girls and boys, I am treading tentatively down the 'acting up' route to job application fun. I am seeking to have my title changed (but only acting mind, not the real thing) and possibly my pay (but extra joyous is the fact that in fact at the next level, in the acting up position it is actually possible to earn less than I am already earning now). I have verily dragged my heels, dragged myself kicking and screaming through this job application process.

I have had to dust off and redo the CV (after 4.5 years), dust off and madly add to the list of projects I've worked on (after 4.5 years of not doing that). I have had to bend and twist my brain cells to think up useful illustrative examples. I have had to stomach churningly deal with the projects I didn't think ended as well as I'd like, or the ones that I won but was too overloaded to work on and had to hand over (like little fostered out kittens that I kind of wanted to keep and feel a bit sad about).

I've had to admit to myself that the list of projects I've worked on looks like I've grabbed 3 people's CV off the copier and glued them together (no no, really, it makes perfect sense to have worked on all those topics, truly. No no, it's fine that there's like 5 bazillion of them). I look at awe at it and think NO WONDER I FEEL SO BLOODY TIRED!

It is like an archaelogical dig through your own 'Career' history. I say 'career' because I think somehow it's such a 1950's or 1980's word. To me it feels more like it's careering out of control on a windy dusty mountain road.


intr.v. ca·reered, ca·reer·ing, ca·reers
To move or run at full speed; rush

Yes it feels like a rush. Rather than career I would like to ponder. I want a meander. A pause. Another word for ones life's work that isn't about rushing. 'So Billy, how is your meander going?', 'Well funny you should ask, I recently went to a meander counselor' that kind of thing. Sounds nicer huh?

Oh yes. But back to the typing. Hell, I tell you, hell. And to know that an array of your coworkers have to interview you. You have to do the I-me-my story, the I-managed, I-wrote, I-collaboratively and consultative took initiative and applied innovation, story to people you work with. I yawned. I got sick of seeing my job application and quite frankly wished it would just go away. I critiqued the stupid criteria. I wished I had done it years ago. I day dreamed about taking another job just to avoid the process.

It really is revolting, in its pedantry, dates, examples, bullet points. Like your working life being trussed up and cleaned up and reduced down to the fine point of arial font and the straight armed marching of lists.

This from the girl who loves getting other people's job applications into shape, my own remains a turgid drama. Well actually that's not true. It is now quite shiny and polished and almost blemish free, and, an hour more editing later, will be quite ready to submit.

And then I can get onto doing something else, get another hobby, as this one is done.