I just had a very humbling experience.  In speaking with a recruiter I was basically told in no uncertain terms that my resume has an awful lot in common with a Hoover Deluxe.

Now I could very well be wrong but regardless, I like to think that I’m at least a competent writer.  In fact I’ve been told on occasion that I write very well.  Perhaps they were just being kind.  Perhaps I’ve been fooling myself all this time because this woman pulled no punches. 

“If this resume crossed my desk it would end up in the circular file in less than five seconds.” is basically what she said.

Now I’ll be honest.  I’ve had suspicions about the quality of my resume but our discussion was sort of the conversational equivalent of The Emperor has No Clothes.  I knew it but did not want to admit it.

For anyone who’s ever had to write a resume it’s probably one of the toughest things to do. Most of us have a difficult time bragging about our skills and abilities so when someone asks you “what are you good at and why?” we tend to have a difficult time formulating an answer.  That is unless we’re just naturally pretty darned pleased with ourselves.

Another question that always seems to arise is “What do you want to do?” to which I always want to reply “What have you got?”  There seem to be many of us that are still trying to figure out what we want to be when we grow up.  I recall taking one of those employment assessment tests in high school—you know, the one that attempts to give you an idea as to the type of job that you might enjoy based on your interests.  You know what the test results told me?  I should be a farmer.  Me, the kid who absolutely hated (and still does) anything to do with “yard work” should pursue a career in which my “yard” could conceivably consist of a couple hundred acres.  Imagine having to go pull weeds on the back forty; or mowing the back forty, or doing ANYTHING with the back forty?  The only “back forty” I’m even REMOTELY interested in is the Back Forty Texas BBQ. No, I think it’s fair to say that you won’t see me in a pair of overalls anytime soon, though I will admit that the idea of getting to drive a tractor holds great appeal.

Just in case I do decide to pursue the farming gig though, I suppose I’d better work on the resume.

Objective:

To wake up before the sparrows break wind, toil in the sun until my skin resembles that of an alligator, learn to chew tobacco without vomiting, determine exactly WHAT and WHERE the “back forty” is.

Experience:

·        Grew lots of foodstuffs

·        Fought with the government over subsidy payments

·        Developed new rutabaga-artichoke hybrid

·        Fought with thieving government over rights to said hybrid

·        Formed local militia

Well in any event it appears I’ll be doing a little creative writing on my resume this week. 

The more I think about it, I’m pretty sure farmers don’t have to write resumes.  Maybe I’m being a little too hasty on this farming idea.  There’s nothing that says one can’t have a “back forty” swimming pool.