2006 Winner: Most Unappealing List of Job Duties

A two word phrase I never ever ever expected to see on a resume: "DECAPITATED HEAD."

(Please note: I am deeply grateful that someone DOES do this job. I am not slagging on the person who performs these duties. I just read them and hate my job a little less as it involves exactly zero preparations or transports of decapitated rabid animal heads. So I’m grateful for that too.)

From resume:

"Duties:

• sanitized kennels daily
• informed public of procedures involving quarantine when animal bites occurred
• decapitation of dead animals
• prepared dead animal head for rabies research
• completed forms & reports for transport of decapitated head
• participated in the euthanization of animals as required
• accompanied kennel aide to landfill sites for disposal of dead animals
• involved in extensive public contact with irate citizens
• use of computer"

(For those of you who are keeping track, meaning none of you, this also counts as my "Thursday's Installment of Some Shit I Am Happy About." Because I'm pretty happy that my Task List today does not include taking dead animals to the landfill and then coming back to deal with irate citizens. Lordy I hope this person was paid well.)

No one told me...

...that "loose" now means "lose." As in "Every time I loose power I loose my phone line" or "Don't loose your keys." This is now rampant. And no, Candidates, I'm actually not talking to you; this is directed at you, Co-Workers.

Is this a thing now? Like "it's" when it's supposed to be "its"? Something that is about to become so goddamn ubiquitous that there's no point in getting worked up about it anymore?

There should be some kind of memo that goes out monthly that outlines the Grammar Battles No Longer Worth Fighting so that I can better know when to waste a rise in my blood pressure.

What else could one expect from a 23-page resume?

That's right: 23 pages. Some of it was formatting issues, but still.

Based on the inclusion of the below paragraph, you might wonder for what position was this person applying? Professor? (Bad) Political Writer? Think Tank Thinker?

No, Supply Chain Manager. For an IT company.

"After the Terror Attackson USA 9/11 2001 and even with New NATO Member States, Bulgaria joining November 2002 in Prague more effective! As to France, Germany failing to support USA Policy on Iraq: their Leaders should re-read Herman WOUK's 'War and Remembrance' and 'Wind of War'!"

God I love the crazies.

Well, at least this was typed instead of being scrawled in tiny print in a feces-smeared composition notebook and mailed to me with a light dusting of anthrax.

Aggravation Style Points: Older Gents

Although it is the holidays and I shouldn't be a-complainin', what with peace and love and all that, I haven't had a recruiting-related post in a few days and I feel itchy to get back on topic otherwise I might start talking about like dating or my new favorite hair-dryer or something.

So instead, I have to report that I have noticed that one particular variety of shaved monkey has once again distinguished itself.

I've already singled out the ladies, now it's time for the fellas, namely some of the older fellas. (By older, I mean, of course, older than me. Going by the dates on their resumes, I'm thinking a lot of these dudes are over 45.) I am seeing a trend of late with many of you. (And of course it goes without saying that it's not ALL of the older dudes, so if you are not guilty of the below, please don't get your knickers in a knot about it.)

Anyway, to the Older Gentlemen Who ARE Guilty of It? Let me finish my sentence.

Let

me

finish

my

goddamn

sentence.

These are the conversations I've been having with far too many of you all lately:

ME: This position is located in Upyerbutt, AR. Are you open to reloca...
YOU: Yes, my wife and I plan to relocate there.
ME: And what are your salary requir...
YOU: I'm looking for a $100K.
ME: And if an offer is extended, how soon would you...
YOU: Two weeks.

Look, I know I sound about all of thirteen on the phone, but I am not thirteen, and even if I were thirteen, why the hell shouldn't a thirteen-year-old be permitted to speak a sentence uninterrupted to its punctuation mark?

I realize my questions are quite predictable, but guess what else they are? Brief. I'm adding absolutely no extraneous comments, chit chat, falderol, etc. So just wait a nanosecond, let me take them to their natural conclusion, and when words have ceased to come from my mouth, that means it is YOUR turn to talk and present an answer. It's called courtesy.

You are all on notice. Moving forward, I will not be stopping. You can attempt to interrupt me, but if I am no longer going to stop talking just because you've decided it's my time to shut up. If I start a question, I'm going to finish the question, and talk right the f over you so you might as well let me do it. Consider yourself warned.

UPDATE: Hours Until/Hours Since

Hours Until I Don't Have to Work Anymore: Um...sort of zero (I give up)
Hours Since the Contractor Was Supposed to Show Up or at Least Call (and Didn't): Zero! Indoor plumbing here I come!

Hours Until/Hours Since

Hours Until I Don't Have to Work Anymore: Five
Hours Since the Contractor Was Supposed to Show Up or at Least Call (and Didn't): Two

Stayed tuned for updates!

A Toilet for Xmas

(Can you feel it, Reader? Only eight hours 'til I don't have to do this job for 96 whole hours! I am down to only four days off instead of the FIVE FIVE FIVE I crowed about but whatever! I'll take it!)

So, Reader, in case you were wondering what someone like me, grumpy and snappish and gnarl-hearted, longs for at this time of year, here's your answer: All I want for Xmas is a working toilet. IN my place.

I made the mistake of telling my landlord that my hot water faucet - in the kitchen - dripped. And somehow this translated to spending the last six weeks enduring an unanticipated bathroom remodel. Right now my toilet is non-operational and living two rooms away from its rightful home. Luckily I have access to other facilities, but let's face it: OTHER facilities cannot hold a candle to YOUR OWN facilities.

The one bright spot in the whole process has been that my contractor has been completely and inadvertently entertaining. He's a little rocker kid (it's kind of like having a Stroke grouting your tile) - and when I say little, I mean teeny tiny. I think he wears like size two girl jeans. I KNOW he wears girl jeans because he told me all about it, I just forgot to ask him what size.

He's told me all about MANY things. I know about his girl trouble, his upbringing (he was home schooled by fundamentalist Christian parents), his mild drug use, his transportation issues, his roommate situation.

Now, as everyone is well aware, I don't take kindly, generally, to unsolicited personal disclosure. UNLESS, as the Championship Powerlifter demonstrated, you manage to entertain me. Which my Rocker Contractor seems to unintentionally do every time he shows up.

Below are some of my favorite things that he has said thus far. I told him that entering Week Six I am losing my mind without a fully operational bathroom and I am sick of brushing my teeth in the kitchen sink so HE MUST FINISH UP AND GET OUT OF MY HOUSE BEFORE XMAS. He was sympathetic and responded by not showing up for two days this week. So I think this will continue into the New Year. If so, expect to see some more of these entries. In fact, I am thinking of filming him. He just comes out with too many gems; they should be documented:

• Well, I'm going to go home and curl my hair.
• (To his dog who was licking his face. Oh, yes, his dog that he brings INTO my house. Without asking.) Don't put your tongue in my mouth, that's bad for a boy doggie. (I could not restrain myself from asking him, to clarify, if in fact I had heard correctly and it was the fact of it being a BOY doggie tongue as opposed to just being DOGGIE tongue that was the problem.)
• "In the midnight hour/She cried 'More more more.'" (Yes, that's from "Rebel Yell" a song he was singing at some rock charity event. Which is fine, except those were the ONLY TWO LINES of the song he would absently sing to himself for DAYS on end. I BEGGED him to sing other parts of the song or an entirely different song, but without thinking he would inevitably return to just those two lines.)
• There's nothing this town likes better than a longhair in a VW bus.
• I think the air quality in my apartment is affecting my vocal cords. (Said whilst smoking, and being covered with a little dusting of the mud he was sanding off the walls. "Do you need some sort of mask?" I had asked as I watched from my desk the dust falling right into his open mouth. "Nah," he had replied.)
• I threw my hair straightener across the room the other day.

Good, as they say, Times! Happy Holidays all! Enjoy your operational toilets!

An Arbitrary and Resounding Yes

After spending the last four months looking down my nose at any personal items including on resumes, I have a slight reversal of opinion.

If you are a woman and a lawyer and have also been a participant in a statewide Championship Powerlifting event, go ahead and put it on your resume.

Why? I have no idea. This is entirely capricious advice that I will probably tell you not to follow once I haven't been up until 2:00 AM making holiday biscotti. All I know is I saw it on a resume today and it didn't make me homicidal. The somewhat unexpected juxtaposition instead made me feel not-bored for a nanosecond while at work. I don't know that I want to help her get a job, but I do know she's going to have to be a character in a story at some point.

So there you go. It's an Xmas miracle!

Zombification

So part of why I am so grumpy all the livelong day is because I haven’t had a real vacay in just about forever, and have a sort of job that much like a gas, expands to fit whatever container (i.e., my waking hours) it’s put into.

And to abruptly change metaphors, work is also like a toxin that builds up in your system. I think of it like gout: there are these work crystals building up under my skin and eventually I get so sensitive I cannot bear the weight of a sheet on my toe/phone call from innocent candidate.

BUT…although there is apparently a war on Xmas or something that people like me are somehow perpetrating by sending out cards that say “Happy Holidays” because we know/like some Jewish people and atheists and are too lazy/indifferent to send out different cards to every person based on what holiday they may or may not be celebrating, Xmas has nevertheless retained the strength to get me a (paid) day fricking off in a week and a half. (Thank you, Xmas!)

And I am going to finagle a few other days off in there and I am going to have five – count ‘em FIVE FIVE FIVE – days where I do not have to ask anyone to describe their current job duties or what their target salary is or how soon they would be available to begin if a position is offered. Five whole days in a row where I can spend all day talking with people about something other than their experience with SOX 404 or their skill level with Excel!

And THAT, Reader, is my Thursday’s Installment of Some Shit that I Am Happy About.

Until then, I am switching into Recruiter Zombie mode. I am still physically here, I am still carrying out my duties, but my brain/soul has already left my body and won’t return until Jan 1, 2007. Posts until then may consist of grunts and or zombie-typing which looks like this:

Ury swrt5giAE GIsrwgeghtu4tg9wtg4qgt wsrhgtegftwisgy gtwesi gts wrgtSWGtw5gthed5r hsuer huaqygtue5uijr4wtytg g yrdrtgtxqt4g5rgtswrwst8wt5ait6h4 GFV8swrG89OA5Y3JNER GIKUHDFGIURWTKIUJSETUHAERUIGHDKSJFNK.ISETHO8LEHT RWHTGKJLRNO;8TH4T.

Job security feels a lot...

...like hot boiling agony.

I'm apparently on this project for the foreseeable future, folks, so...

Yeah.

I had a little escape route planned but the Ringwraiths of Upper Management sniffed it out and cut me off.

So, Hi, Reader! I'm here all night! All week! For-effing-ever!

(Placeholder for image to be added later of me disappearing into a hypno-swirl-thingy, with my tiny hand pitifully reached out towards the light! The LIGHT!!!!!)

How Not to Leave a Voicemail Message

(Preamble: I am 100% certain that this entire post and entire complaint has probably already been bloggified verbatim by some other primate with a keyboard, but I got nothing else for you today, Reader.)

How Not to Leave a Voicemail Message

Don't leave this:

"HithisisStacey[or Daisy or Tracey or Macy or possibly even Ashley]andigotyouremailandiamcallingyoubackmynumberisfivefivefive[unintelligible]fivefivefiveandmycellnumberis[completely, totally unintelligible after several replays of the message, although, in the interest of full disclosure, the last listening was somewhat drowned out by the sound of my own anguished yelp of frustration]."

How Not to Leave Three Voicemail Messages

Do not leave the above three times in one day.

***

For those of you only recently waking up in the late Oughts, may I alert you to a handy feature on many voicemails these days, which is that you can take a listen to the message you just left to determine if, in fact, someone without access to FBI-style audio clean-up tools will be able to understand what you are saying prior to actually sending the message. If there’s any doubt, re-record.

Of course, that expectation is a bit of a double-edged sword and it’s inevitable the one time that you like drop your phone on your foot and swear like a stevedore mid-message will be the time that you called someone with the cruel voicemail that will not allow you to re-record. So be careful, Rip!

Potentially Useful Information

Now you really cannot say I never gave you anything, Reader, because with this post, I have given you at least two pieces of actual information instead of just the usual complaints. (Here's the other and I am dead serious: it is crazy tasty.)

Deborah Ng, who, as I have mentioned, runs a helpful blog for freelance writers, posted that she was interviewed on Salary Stories, which alerted me to the fact that there is something called Salary Stories.

Even if I were not in recruiting, I would still be nosy, so I find the info on here quite interesting in an up-in-your-business kind of way. If you are actively considering a career change, there might be some useful stuff on here to check out. If you are not actively considering a career change, but tend to look in people's medicine cabinets when you are in their bathrooms, you will probably also find it of interest.

Still Chiming My One Note

I am clearly playing the triangle in the giant orchestra that is blogging, because seriously, it's all the same stuff lately, ain't it? It's all some variation on my original post, namely, you are looking for employment. An exchange of skills and time for money. Not friendship, not a relationship, not a date.

I know I keep saying the same thing and every few days I get all Ram Dass on my own ass think, "You know what? I don't want to do the blog anymore because it's just more like, negativity, man, out in the world and there's so much of it out there and like I just want to be happy."

And it will go quiet in the recruiting world, candidates will be dutifully submitting cover letters and resumes that exhibit common sense and restraint, and they will not have "Smack That" as their ringback tone, and I will think I am safe.

But then someone slips up and I enter a Wormhole of Questionable Judgment and I cannot restrain myself from commenting upon it. I can't. To let this kind of thing go unremarked upon would like...like a tacit approval! How could I sleep at night?

So, once again, my advice:

• If you are a 51-year old man, do not put your myspace address on your resume.
• If you are a 51-year old man, who has misguidedly put his myspace address on his resume, do not start off your "About Me" section talking about how you are the most talked-about person within your geographic locale and "nope! [you're] not schizoid, paranoid or psycho!"
• If you are a 51-year old man who has misguidedly put his myspace address on his resume, and DID start off your "About Me" section talking about how you are the most talked-about person within your geographic locale and "nope! [you're] not schizoid, paranoid or psycho!", then you might want to go scrub it of all references to NaughtyGirls, Penthouse, etc.
• If you are a 51-year old man who has misguidedly put his myspace address on his resume, and DID start off your "About Me" section talking about how you are the most talked-about person within your geographic locale and "nope! [you're] not schizoid, paranoid or psycho!", and you neglected to scrub it of all references to NaughtyGirls, Penthouse, etc., then you might want to dial back the more rabidly divisive political stuff.
  

If you are a 51-year old man who could bring yourself to do none of the above because, dammit, even during the job search every little thing in your life is a Song of Yourself and why SHOULDN'T you express your likes and dislikes as this is AMERICA, and what am I, some kind of commie?

Well, then, at the very least, can I beg you to edit down the like 2000 words of all cap screaming in your "About Me" and "Who I'd Like to Meet" section?

And might I also remark that just in the spirit of efficiency, you don't reallly NEED 2000 words, period, in your "Who I'd Like to Meet" section because you started it off with a somewhat naughty picture of a naughty girl, and I think that picture is actually worth your 2000 words.

New Feature!

Although I am loathe to go off-topic because then, really, it's just a slippery slope to Online Diary, and the world doesn't need another one of those.

Nevertheless, I'm starting to be mildy disturbed by my own candidate-hating misanthropy as cataloged through this blog. It's awfully one-note.

So I think that once a week (let's say Thursdays because that's usually when I am really losing it) I should post something that is not a fatigued and despairing entry about yet another "Stupid Thing Somebody Stupid Stupidly Did (Aggrieved Sigh)." Instead I will try to post "Things that Remind Me It's Not So Bad to Be a Human."

I am going to keep an eye out for recruiting-related hope-inducing items, but honestly, this week, I don't have any (aggrieved sigh).

BUT! There is this off-topic hope-inducing item!


I can't wait!!!!!

That's right, unbridled enthusiasm + multiple exclamation points. Kitten pics and poems about Jesus or friendship sure TK.

I'm sure it's just an ESL typo...

...but when a candidate sends me a message that says - or, crucially, asks:

"Thanks you for your nice message?"

I can't help but look around myself nervously, like...is my simmering resentment showing?

Time Zones 101

Candidate, if I ask you if you are available at - specifically - "1:00 PM Pacific Time" for a phone interview, but you happen to be on the East Coast this week, then what you need to do is add three hours to 1:00 PM, which, voila! = 4:00 PM EST.

What you should NOT do is assume that if I am available at 1:00 PM Pacific Time, that I would also be available at 1:00 PM Eastern Time (10:00 AM Pacific Time). And then get mad because I didn't call you at that time, even though I made it clear when I was available.

1) I do not have you tagged with GPS and plot out your whereabouts on a Google map. I do not know where you are this week or any other week for that matter.
2) 1:00 PM Pacific Time and 1:00 PM Eastern Time ARE TWO COMPLETELY DIFFERENT TIMES. It makes no sense to assume that if I am available for one I am available for the other.

And there were three mattresses, one of which had blood-stains on the side.

I spent last night in a crappy motel with a cat that (who?) decided at 4:45AM that he didn't like it anymore and spent the next hour crying and pooping.

So I am not prepared for your near-cryptic e-mails that sound vaguely like foreign spam this morning, Candidate. Please try again.


"Hello Ill-Suit,

Thank you very much for the email.

Yes, I am interested for the position. Please, see attached my resume file.

you can process a brief, 10-minute phone screen with me tomorrow at 10:00 am as December 6. If the schedule is not inconvenient for you, please let me know for any time."

In Praise of Formality

From cover letter:

"Before I began raising children, I had a brain and I had ambition, drive, and verve."

I know this candidate is trying to be chummy, but no. No. Just don't do it. Resist the urge to be cute.

Ow.

From resume (emphasis added for leg-cross-inspiring misspelling):

"Duties: Pulling Charts putting the right documents in the chart taking Vital Signs screening Patients getting them ready for the Dr. Giving Injections doing EKG Test. Weighing Patients setting up tray for Pap Simmer, Assisting Dr. with Pap Simmer. Assisting Dr. with I&D minor Surgery."

Not even going to comment on the worrying possibility that this individual is helping with ANY surgery, minor or not.