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To Whom It May Concern:

I am writing in reference to the position of [insert typically vague and meaningless job title here] which I learned about from your website.  My experience in [whatever remotely qualifies me for this job] is entirely applicable to this position.  It includes [my most impressive skills]…

Ugh, I am getting tired of seeing those words today, so I’ve decided to put the next cover letter on hold for a few minutes.  Through my elegant and professional b-s, I think I have successfully conveyed that I am perfectly qualified for every single job that strikes my fancy based on my previous career experience and education.  Now, if only a potential employer would agree.

I love reading a completed cover letter.  It’s only complete when I can sit back and say to myself, “Damn, I’m awesome.  I would hire me.”  Unfortunately, I’ve learned recently that I’ve been making myself appear TOO awesome.  Did you know that job candidates are just as unlikely to get an interview for a job they’re overqualified for as one they’re underqualified for?  It’s especially true now, in this climate of high unemployment, because companies don’t want to pay an educated, experienced person a good salary when there are thirty other candidates with less education and experience willing to work for less.  Of course, these companies may not realize that my salary expectations are well below average… I did live in NEPA for a decade, after all.  My last salary was downright insulting.

There are so many well-meaning friends and family advising me to apply for this or that entry-level job, admin assistant job, retail, or waitressing job, as though it were the obvious thing to do.  In my opinion, if that’s all there is for me, why did I go through this starting-over thing in the first place?  Certainly not to step backwards in my career.  I don’t want to be too picky, but I’m starting over in every other aspect of life.  I would really like to pick up my career where it left off, rather than returning to the early-twenties lifestyle of tiny, decrepit apartments, malfunctioning appliances, landlords, loud neighbors, and ramen noodles.  I didn’t even like it then, so I’m reasonably sure it won’t be any more glamorous now.

Okay, back to the drawing board.  My qualifications are perfectly aligned for this position.  Please contact me at your earliest convenience so we may discuss our compatibility.  I look forward to hearing from you.  Blah, blah, blah.  I’m awesome.  Just hire me!  Please?

Comments

  1. Lappy still eats Ramen noodles and he is passing this food preference down to the next generation.

    ReplyDelete

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Part 1: College Submission

Alice stepped onto the dock in the backyard where her daughter sat, feet dangling into the creek.
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“Seriously, mom, it’s okay. I’m 18. I can sign.”
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Madison rolled her eyes, but obeyed. Arguing was futile.
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State was a good school, but it didn’t have the budget for security. Outside the ivies (which no longer accepted applications from non-legacy candidates), Elmwood…

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Alice looked impatiently at her watch. Five more minutes until her daughter Madison and the other four candidates would present their high school theses to the Elmwood University enrollment board. 
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“Oh, that’s a closed event, ma’am. We’ll finish up the tour in time for you all to retrieve your students.” The tour guide didn’t even pause before continuing. “Next we are going to walk through the residential quad. Naturally, we will not be going inside any of the residence or dining halls for security reasons.”
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Well, that’s overkill, thought Alice. What fun is college if you can’t sneak boys into…

Part 3: Life After Curfew

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“Nope! We’re stealing it from the school bathrooms,” replied Grace. “Hurry up and get down here!”
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“Welcome to life after curfew!” Grace said in a loud whisper.
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