Job Applications: 7
Yesterday was pretty constructive, all things considered. The daily job hunt started early, some time between two teenage boys discussing the physical attributes of a substitute maths teacher outside my window ('nice rack', apparently) and me finding my Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back DVD despite the fact that I'd lost it in a different house some six months previously.
I managed to find three jobs that were of vague interest to me. To be perfectly frank, none of them really tickled my pickle. But as I have previously explained, pickle-tickling is no longer my highest priority.
If that wording unsettles you, I can only apologise.
I spent a good 40 minutes tailoring each C.V to fit the requirements of the job. I emphasised the vast array of skills I developed throughout the three-year admin career that preceeded university; such as misfiling documents, 'accidently' hanging up on difficult customers and walking away nonchelantly when the printer jammed.
Although I consider it to be testament to my independence and negotiation skills, I decided not to mention the annual office debate about why I should be *forced* to pay for and bring in cakes for the office ON MY OWN BIRTHDAY...
Once that enraging memory had found its way back to the nook of my mind reserved for the likes of George Bush's re-election, Bono's face and Theo Paphitis's general smugness, I checked the uni intranetmajig to discover that I had received a first in Journalism and Creative Writing from the 117th greatest university in the country.
It might not be Cambridge, but it is surely at least as academically and vocationally valuable as an A Level in General Studies from one of the country's better sixth form colleges.