#74 Get a new job... in Canada

Status: Alive... and employed!

Dear readers,

I know, I know, it's been eons since my last update. But given Brady seems to have put his career-building PhD over this frivolous web-based to-do list, I think I can get away with a 40-day absence. Especially as this is due, in most part, to the fact I'm no longer dining on the stale breadcrumbs left lying around my kitchen. That's right: I have a job.

I've been pretty fortunate in landing some excellent jobs in the past, most of which have more or less just fallen into my unemployed lap. This was probably the first time I've had to actively seek out some source of income with which I can afford to buy a new tube of toothpaste to replace the empty one I've been wringing out like a wet towel for the past month.

Hats off to Bodie, who simply walked into the first bar he saw and was offered a job quicker than I could type another lie on my résumé. If only the public relations field was that easy to break into.

Job hunting, I've discovered, requires you to leap through more hoops than an overworked circus performer. That clumsy metaphor may as well be literal, given how ridiculously incomparable the application process is to the position for which you're applying. Once you've managed to pen a curriculum vitae that need only be slightly more credible than, say, The Da Vinci Code, you may be fortunate enough to be called upon for an interrogation interview. This is where it gets ugly.

A proper job interview is a lot like improvisational theatre, in which your character is an infinitely more qualified, urbane and amicable version of yourself.

Before you enter the interview, be sure to check your brain at the door. You won't be needing it. Even if you decide to lug it in with you, it will refuse to function at all. If asked a simple question - let's say, "Can you tell us about your previous position?" - your brain will simply stand (imagine the brain has feet) inside your head, cross its arms (imagine the brain has arms) and say (imagine the brain has a mouth), "Sorry, you're on your own." Occasionally, it will remark something more profound, such as "I wonder who they modelled the 'Don't Walk' man on" or "Perhaps this would have gone better if I inhaled helium immediately before arriving", but that's about the extent of its usefulness.

Unfortunately, the questions are never that simple to begin with. It's usually something absurdly specific like, "Describe a time when your boss came up to you, coated himself in honey and asked you to walk his llama" or "Tell us about a time when you got sucked into the photocopier only to emerge in the land of Oz". At which point, quite bizarrely, the brain kicks into gear and spews forth any old twaddle that might even vaguely answer the question. For instance, in one interview - for a position that strongly involved me working with kids - I claimed I disliked small children (an outright lie) and that I would "discipline" any child who misbehaved (an outright offence).

Though, strangely, the interview I cocked up most of all was actually the position I ended up landing. God help me, though, if I ever have to use the photocopier.

Sincerely,

M.B. Weston
Communications Specialist
Strathcona County

P.S. It's a great job; thanks for asking!