Updating Your Res: Tip #4 - Pimp Your Cover Letter!

A resume' without a cover letter is like a yin without its yang.  A Cher without a Sonny.  A junkie without his fix:  Trembling, insane and pumped full of botox.  

Or, more simply put, incomplete.

Today, we discuss the most annoying (potential employers would beg to differ here), arbitrary, oftentimes grueling aspect of applying for a new job:  The Cover Letter.

Potential employers encourage applicants to "tell us a little about why you are best for this position,"  "Give us a taste of who you really are," "Let your personality shine through."

There is something masochistic about these requests, but I digress.  Lets tackle this here cover letter and wrangle it straight.

We begin with a generic cover letter from our friend Diane:

_____________________________________________________________

To Whom it May Concern:

I am very interested and uniquely qualified for the bagel mistress position your organization is currently looking to fill. 

As stated on my resume', I have over fifteen years of experience in all facets of bagel production, from procuring the root ingredients, to kneading the dough,  and finally baking the finished product.

In addition to my passion for making bagels I am an avid stamp collector and spend at least two days a month volunteering with local charity organizations.

Thank you for your time and I look forward to meeting with a representative from your organization to further discuss this opportunity.

All My Best!

~Diane Fuegalschitz

__________________________________________________________________

"All Your Best" Diane?  Really?  I think not.

Lets pimp this cover letter - 

To Whom it May Concern:  - Okay, we have a general idea who it concerns - the organization you are applying to and its HR staff.  The key word for a great cover letter is CONFIDENCE

try this - 

Dear Organization That Would be Fortunate to Have Me as an Employee:

I am very interested and uniquely qualified for the bagel mistress position your organization is currently looking to fill. - Well slap my ass and call me Gertrude.  Diane, you are interested in the bagel mistress position???  No shit.  Obviously you are interested in the position, if not, why would you be forgoing watching "General Hospital" to type up this cover letter?

Pimp it  -

I want to make bagels.  I LOVE making bagels.  When my feet hit the ground in the morning, all I'm thinking of is kneading dough.  Some people fantasize about sex.  I fantasize about sprinkling sesame seeds on a freshly baked bagel.  Then I fantasize about having sex with that bagel.   Do the math Pythagorus:  Diane + Your Company = bagels created with REAL LOVE, by a bagel ARTIST.

As stated on my resume', I have over fifteen years of experience in all facets of bagel production, from procuring the root ingredients, to kneading the dough,  and finally baking the finished product. - Redundant.  Lose it.  They've got your resume' (See: Resume' Tip #2 - Pad that Sh*t)

In addition to my passion for making bagels I am an avid stamp collector and spend at least two days a month volunteering with local charity organizations. - Wow, Diane, is your middle name "excitement" by any chance?  Thats sweet that you volunteer, but, companies are about one thing: the bottom line.  Cold, hard capitalism is the name of the game.  If they feel you are motivated by the same thing and are somewhat provocative, you will most assuredly land that coveted interview.

PIMP IT - 

The only thing I like making more than bagels is money.  Making money for myself.  For whomever allows me to make the bagels.  Bagels and Money. Thats what gets me out of bed in the morning (and if you're lucky, its what gets me IN bed on some nights too).  Which brings me to my extracurricular activity: I'm a prostitute.  I do it for the thrill.  Sometimes, I accept bagels in lieu of cash.  

Thank you for your time and I look forward to meeting with a representative from your organization to further discuss this opportunity. - Don't thank them.  They haven't done anything yet.  Challenge them instead.

If you don't at least meet me in person, your company will suffer.  Your bagels will cease to be tasty and YOU WILL LOSE MONEY.  Your call Charlie.  (IF you are calling about my other services, please ask for "Misty Lakes").

Sign off with this-

You Need Me.

~Diane Fuegalschitz

Happy Hunting Diane.  And, please do something about that last name.  Maybe hyphenate that "schitz" or something.  ~P

Why don't you just scrawl "Pathetic" across my forehead??"

I happened upon an article in the NY Times this morning regarding the recent boom in business at placement (also known as outplacement) firms.

Here is the photo they used:

This photo of former Yahoo employee Ryan Teixeira is not what one would call uplifting.  More like a Unicef ad for white dudes.

Here's an excerpt from the article, on which I shall opine:

Consultants are careful to say that people are not eliminated, positions are eliminated. (Or, preferably, they are “made redundant.”)  - "made redundant"...perhaps I should change the blog name to "Its Not You. Its Your Redundancy" 

But laid-off workers, of course, do take it personally. The third-party companies act as the “cleanup team” at the end of the layoff, said Alan Whitton, who had worked at Nortel for 20 years when he lost his job last August. “They deal with folks like me who knew it was coming and ask a couple of questions and bug out — and those who didn’t see it coming and are still in shock,” he said.

After being notified by phone of his termination, Mr. Whitton was walked through the severance package by a human resources worker, who then introduced him to the outplacement representative. He was asked about his feelings, handed a binder of information and asked to attend an orientation session the next day.

He was asked about his feelings.  How do you think Mr. Whitton was feeling?  Did the outplacement representative expect adjectives such as  "glorious" or "divine" to spring from Mr. Whitton's lips? 

Message to outplacement firms:  He felt like hell.  Stop asking questions you already know the answer to and pretending to care.  Its disingenuous and frankly offensive.

But don't forget the binder...

Check out the article at:  

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/01/21/business/21layoffs.html?ref=jobs

Superfun Activity for the Unemployed: #3 Make a Collage!

You may feel that collages are childish and regressive - and in some circumstances they are.  Remember, however, dear reader, one must REgress in order for one to PROgress.

All you need are -

1. Scissors

2. Glue

3. Poster board

4. An old family album you can cannibalize 

5. Creativity

6. (optional) a bottle of whiskey

Here's some examples of exemplary collages:

Notice how Brittany has ensconced her shiny, golden maned head smack-dab in the middle of this valley girl dreamland!  She is flanked by two beauties one can only surmise are her mother and grandmother.  Brittany's personality comes shining through after a well placed image of her playfully making bull horns, as if to say "I may be wearing this here evenin' gown, but gosh golly, I'm a playful sort.  Watch out or I may gore you!"  One word: art.

Now, this is a more standard and structured example of a collage, but it is a collage nonetheless.  The collage artist is employing what is called a "tile motif."

Whereas Brittany went hog wild with her collage, this artist is opting for a cleaner, more organized layout.  I'm not quite sure how the artist managed to find such a cadre of rugged type men, but that is where individuality and sheer luck enters in.  If these lads were all huddled together in a room at the same time, one would be apt to say: "Watch out ladies. I don't think these wood paneled walls will be able to contain the brute sexuality and raw masculinity these fellas are exuding."  The gentleman in the top row, center square, embodies the definition of badass.  His eyes seem to say "Lets take this damn picture already so I can go have a threesome with the two Tai hookers and do coke off the barrel of my 44 Magnum."  Man's man.

Love is in the air.  And if not in the air, then definitely in Stacey and Chad's collage.  Not only did these two Siamese twin lovebirds (their heads have since been separated, thankfully) employ a collage technique, but they also broke the collage up into a puzzle format.  "Too much?" you may ask.  Not at all.  Love like theirs cannot exist as a whole for very long.  The sheer magnitude of the union of their souls can only be mirrored by a celestial event such as a galaxy falling in on itself.  Bravo, Stacey and Chad. Bravo!

The Hunt

Many apologies to the four or five people who read this blog for my short absence.  I was just so darned happy about Barack Obama's inauguration that I proceeded to go on a four day bender, replete with Uncle Sam hat and a vest constructed entirely out of Obama pins.  

But, I'm back and back means back to what I will henceforth refer to as  "The Hunt."

Today (in similar fashion to the past three weeks) I set my alarm clock for a sensible 8 AM wake-up.  The daily routine I've created to add some structure to my relatively amorphous new lifestyle is as such:

1. Wake at 8 AM

2. Perform some light calesthenics

3. Give myself a morality boosting talking-to in the mirror, vigorously repeating a mantra such as "Your destiny awaits you!", "Carpe Diem!" or "Today I will find suitable employment and realize my full potential!"

4. Brew some coffee

5. Dedicate three hours to online job searching and applications

6.  Meditate 

7. Eat a healthy lunch

8. Dedicate a second three hours to online job searching and applications

9. Dedicate one hour to investigating volunteering opportunities that would allow me to utilize some portion of my free time toward the betterment of society

10. Gym

11. Eat a healthy dinner

12. Dedicate one and a half hours to investigating pursuing a higher degree of some sort

13. Call my mother

14. Curl up with a good murder mystery and a warm glass of milk 

15. Fall soundly asleep by 11 PM

I've always been of ambitious ilk.  Unfortunately, I have not quite fully adopted the above itinerary as of yet.  In fact, the actual breakdown of the my day tends to more resemble the following:

1. Alarm goes off at 8 AM.  Hit snooze

2. Alarm goes off at 8:10 AM. Hit snooze

3. Alarm goes off at 8:20 AM. Turn alarm off

4. Wake at 10:30 AM, realize I don't have to be anywhere, fall back to sleep

5. Wake at noon, jump from bed in flurry, loudly berating myself for sleeping in and not following the tenets of my itinerary

6. Look at myself in the mirror and cringe at my pallor and quickly fading youth

7. Brew coffee

8. Check personal email, respond to various personal emails

9. Read a news website to familiarize myself with the current state of the world

10. Realize its half past one, loudly berate myself again for waking so late

11. Eat a slice of pepperoni pizza and a sausage roll from Mike's Pizzeria

12. 2:30 PM Begin looking at online job sites

13. 3:10 PM Become frustrated by sparsity of jobs, end up on FaceBook

14. Freak the fuck out

15. Calm myself down

16. Spend an hour cathartically writing for this blog

17. Set up some sort of social outing with friends for the evening, oftentimes revolving around drinking

18.  Look at the price of one way flights to Italy and France

19. Apply online for the two jobs I found that I was grossly overqualified for

20. Spend one hour customizing cover letters 

21. Accidently delete cover letter template

22. Freak the fuck out, again

23. Forage in kitchen for snack: eat Chinese sesame crackers with chunky peanut butter - dinner done

24. 8:30 PM Shower, dress and head into the city to meet friends at a bar.

25.  9 PM - 10:30 PM engage in light banter with friends, slowly feel my self esteem becoming inflated, continue drinking

26. 11 PM - 1:30 AM  ?

27. 3 AM Ariv hommme f;lakdjf  go t' sliip

Well, there's always tomorrow...  ~P

Updating Your Res: Tip #3 - Format, Schmor-mat!

***Warning: there is actually a practical, helpful tip buried in this posting. Find it and reap the benefits!

Countless hours can be spent formatting one's resume.  Hours of indenting, selecting the appropriate font size and type.  Deciding if your name should be 20 or 24 point, bolded, underlined and sprinkled with a light dusting of gold sparkles.

Hold on to those sparkles though, because in our web savvy world you don't need them.  

Most positions can be applied for via the internet.  Websites such as these offer that opportunity:

www.Indeed.com

www.Monster.com

www.CareerBuilder.com

www.JobsYouDon'tReallyWant.com

www.GetAJobYouLoserBitch.com

These sites provide the weary job seeker with a plenitude of job options one is either>

 

a) not qualified for because of being short one year on the "years of experience" section

of the "required qualifications."

or

b) not interested in because the position involves molding yak shit into a renewable source of insulation for a wealthy eccentric's "green" mansion in Albuquerque. 

That said, these internet sites pose another problem for Johnny Resume' Poster: the platforms used will decimate your resume's formatting.

My suggestion is to create a generic copy of your res, sans bells and whistles, and save this res specifically for positions you are applying for online.  A basic Word doc w/o any formatting or a generic text doc should do the trick.

If after posting one is so damned bored/anal they wish to reformat, bolding and indenting to their heart's content, I say GO FOR IT!  Of course, when the HR drone who is sifting through resumes opens it on his/her browser, that formatting will be all kinds of sloppy.

This is fairly commonsensical and I'm sure many already ascribe to this method.  If not, get on the bus. ~P

What if You're Color Blind?

From Careerbuilder.com>

Can Your Favorite Color Determine Your Perfect Job?
Rachel Zupek, CareerBuilder.com writer

Do you ever wish finding the perfect job could be as easy as 1, 2, 3? According to new research, it might be as easy as red, yellow or blue.

That's right; by determining which primary, secondary and achromatic colors you prefer most and least, you can figure out a successful career path based on how you approach work, the types of workplaces where you work best and how you handle work tasks.

The Color Career Counselor, powered by The Dewey Color System -- the world's only validated, non-language color-based career testing instrument -- uses color preferences to determine successful career paths. Dewey Sadka, author of "The Dewey Color System," says using colors instead of a questionnaire eliminates the chasm between self-perception and self-truth and reveals your core motivations.

"What if you misinterpret a [career assessment] question or the choices don't reflect your personality?" Sadka asks. "Color preference indicates your personality's best career fit. Preferred colors indicate passionate career pursuits; non-preferred choices establish workplace skills you least enjoy."

How it works
The Color Career Counselor is simple. First, you click your preferred primary color (red, yellow or blue). From there, you choose your preferred secondary (green, purple or orange) and achromatic (black, white or brown) colors.

"Your preferred colors determine how you attack each task. They indicate your talents -- what you prioritize first in order to be successful. They also highlight what you overdo, especially when you feel great," Sadka says.

For example, if you're partial to yellow, you're information-driven; blue preference people are idea-driven and people who prefer red are results-driven. If you favor green as your secondary color, you realistically evaluate situations; purple indicates you like fact-finding possibilities and orange signals that you scrutinize feasibility. Finally, if black is your choice from the achromatic colors, you consider value above all else; white shows that you like having options and brown confirms that you like implementation and accomplishing tasks.

On the other hand, your least preferred colors determine tasks and issues that you tend to forget.

For example, if your least favorite color is orange, sometimes you over-commit yourself by trying to do too much at once. If you dislike the color green, you try to fix everything for your colleagues rather than making them do it themselves. Or, if your least favorite is teal, you feel a deep need to prove you are competent and you don't care what other people think.
In managing these areas head-on, Sadka says you won't miss the incidentals that could impede your success.

Put to the test

To see for myself if this "scientific" test was for real, I took the test three different times and got the same results each time, affirming that I am, in fact, in the right career.
I'm a "creator," says the Color Career Counselor. I'm "nonconforming, impulsive, expressive, romantic, intuitive, sensitive and emotional." It says I enjoy working independently, being creative, using my imagination and constantly learning something new.
For my suggested "creator occupations," I was given an extensive list of careers that included jobs I've considered (architect, interior decorator, English teacher), jobs people told me I should pursue (author, creative director, public relations) and jobs that I currently hold or aspire to in the future (reporter and editor).

What about you?

So are you a researcher, creator, social manager, persuader, doer or organizer? To find out what career path you should be following based on your preferred colors, here are a few examples of what certain choices say about you, and the careers and skills that compliment them.
If you prefer: yellow, purple and white: You're the communicator.

You create profitable perspectives -- how to break into new accounts or be heard by other employees. By simply identifying a client's point of view, you develop strategies that open doors, even if they had already been shut. Your excellent communication skills can create problem-solving forums. Careers in corporate communications, marketing or religious occupations work best.

If you prefer: red, green and black: You're the investor.
You know the value of money and resources, as well as the intrinsic worth of each co-worker's contributions. Your supportive, yet analytical personality works best in finance, accounting, banking, manufacturing, property management, production analysis, investment, money management, consulting, product sales or teaching.

If you prefer: blue, orange and brown: You're the activist.
Your strong community beliefs and no-nonsense approach improves services for those around you. Occupations where you can improve existing specifications or impact social values work best for you. Consider careers in engineering, building, or developing new programs, companies or products. Also consider law enforcement, firefighting, social or government work.

These are only a few of hundreds of different color profiles. For your own free career evaluation, please visit: http://www.careerpath.com/career-tests/colorcareercounselor.aspx.

Rachel Zupek is a writer and blogger for CareerBuilder.com. She researches and writes about job search strategy, career management, hiring trends and workplace issues.

Updating Your Res: Tip #2 - Pad That Sh*t!

Padding the resume, contrary to popular belief, does not mean "lying" about your qualifications, it merely means adding false value to your resume!  The key word in the phrase "false value" is "value!" And who doesn't want to add some value to their resume?

Lets look at Mike's resume as it stands>

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Michael Dentyne

209.434.2735

mdentyne@hotmail.com

Objective: To secure a position as a claims adjuster for a large insurance brokerage.

Professional Experience

Jan 06 - Jan 09    Assistant Claims Adjuster: Geico Insurance Inc.

- Responsible for assisting primary adjuster in assessing viability of damage claims

- Helped determine negligence on part of the policy holder and offer aid in payment practices

- Liase' between policy holder, non-policy holder and third party to determine culpability and 

fair assessment practices

...

Education: Walmont College, Laurenceville NH

Graduated: June 06, Bachelors in Business Management 

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Now, I don't know about you, but I yawned at least three times while reading Michael's not-so-riveting resume.  And where does a resume such as this end up?  You guessed it: in the garbage!

Now, lets turn this zero resume into a hero resume!

First, we must determine what the problems are.  Then, we fix them!

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Michael Dentyne - okay this name, not going to work.  You need to create a name that sounds cool such as:

Jett McSutherland 

or

Dirk Deathdealer

209.434.2735 - phone number is fine

mdentyne@hotmail.com - lame.  Firstly, don't even use your name.  Use something that captures the essence of who you are when creating the email address that will appear on your resume.  

Maybe try something like - whiskeylord69@gmail.com (nobody uses hotmail anymore!)

or

hoslayer@me.com

Objective: To secure a position as a claims adjuster for a large insurance...blah blah blah.  Make that shit active, homes!  And shoot for the stratosphere!  

Objective: To become the CEO of your insurance company and quadruple the salary of your current CEO, as well as kick some ass!

Now, on to what you did at your last job.  First. The title: change it!

Professional Experience

Jan 06 - Jan 09 - three years is paltry.  You worked at that place for ten.

Jan 1999 - Jan 09

Assistant Claims Adjuster: Geico Insurance - nope, try this:

CEO Squared: Geico Insurance and the known universe

- Responsible for assisting...yada yada yada.  Not going to work.  Throw all the descriptors out the window and replace with: 

- Ran Geico Insurance Incorporated.  During my tenure, I cut costs by one thousand percent.  I increased profits by three thousand percent and I saved a lot on my car insurance!

- Kicked ass and took names

And finally, your schooling.

Education: Walmont College, Lawrenceville NH - I'm sure "Walmont" College afforded you a rich liberal arts education, some deep philosophical discussions while strumming an acoustic Gibson and smoking copious amounts of marijuana, but the fact is, nobody knows what the fuck Walmont College is.  Secondly, "Lawrenceville NH"???? The population of an illegal two family house in NYC probably far exceeds that of "Lawrenceville NH."

So, lets pad that shit!

Education: The University of Oxford: Oxfordshire England

Degree in Quantum Mechanics and Financial Astrophysics

Now your resume is golden and instead of the rubbish bin, will end up on the top of any employer's pile!

Happy hunting, Dirk Deathdealer!

Updating Your Res: Tip #1 - Use Big Words!

Ah, the resume!   Updating the ol res can be a time consuming and altogether debilitating endeavor.

1. What was the most important task I performed in my former position?

2. How should I word it?

3. Should I use the phrase "Responsible for" repeatedly or should I vary it up with more

active explanations of my former duties?

Firstly, you should strive to use the most complicated and sophisticated words in the English dictionary to demonstrate your intellect and expansive vocabulary. 

I like to use thesaurus.com when updating my resume.  It helps add some "spice,"some "flair," some "je ne se qua" to my formerly bland job descriptions.

It helps me change a relatively standard sentence like

"Responsible for making copies" 

into

"Culpable for begetting replications"

 

or

"Answered phone calls from angry consumers"

to

"Elucidated phone supplications from splenetic eaters"

And, my personal favorite

"Scheduling lunch reservations for my boss"

into

"Originating tiffin retainment for my chieftain"

You should try it!  You'll have potential employers calling in no time at all!  

Happy Hunting!  

~P

Are You Qualified for This Position?

I've sobered up. Exorcised the demons of self pity and rage. I've indulged myself as much as I saw fit and am now ready to grab the bull by the horns. Problem is, there is no bull.

Allow me to digress for a moment and throw some of that crazy stuff I utilized earlier out on the table: logic.

We are in a full fledged, wham-bam-thank-you maam, recession, right? Unemployment is spiking. Layoffs are happening everywhere. And, once we have all completed our requisite whoa-is-me round of imbibing, its time to "knuckle down," "ante up" and put our "noses to the grindstone!"

My question is "Where is this fucking grindstone??!?!"

Now, bear with me, this may sound like a crazy concept.

Everyone is being laid off because positions are being eliminated. Fewer positions require fewer people to fill those positions. Okay, still with me?

So, what do we all (me included) immediately do after our positions have been eliminated? Look to see if our former positions exist somewhere else!

And where do we do this? On our old/new friend, the internet!

And so, we spend countless hours sifting through job boards and websites and Craig's myriad of lists searching for suitable positions for which we can submit our resumes and, if we're super lucky, a tailored cover letter (which is actually cut and pasted from a template with a few key words changed, but the employer thinks for some reason that the applicant's personality will come shining through like a beam from the ass end of an angel).

I will discuss both cover letters and electronic resumes in blog postings to come (formatting alone warrants a posting of Tolstoyian proportions).

In the meantime, allow me to share the job requirements for a position I happened upon this morning (I've added some conjecture in red italics...the blue is from a REAL job listing from Indeed.com):

MENTAL/PHYSICAL DEMANDS

Must be able to function under considerable levels of stress and be able to manage multiple tasks. - you had me at "considerable."

Will periodically either be sitting, standing, walking, crouching, or stooping. - interpretive dance, methinks.

Must be able to use hands to finger, handle or feel, push and pull, reach with hands and arms and computer keyboard and mouse will be used continuously throughout the work day. - now, this is too easy. "...able to use hands to finger, handle or feel, push and pull,.." Sounds like a typical Saturday night for me.

Must frequently lift and/or move up to 50 pounds and occasionally lift and/or move up to 70 pounds. - wait, will I be engaging in coitus with dwarfs? Dwarfs with thyroid problems??

Must be able to hear and speak since both written and verbal communication are required on a regular basis. - must I do both at the same time? If so, I must regretfully remove my resume' from your pile.

Must have ability to recall, remember and maintain mental focus. - What am I doing right now? Oh look, a new Facebook message!

Specific vision abilities required by this job include close vision, distance vision, color vision, peripheral vision, depth perception, and ability to adjust focus. - Yes. I forgot to mention on my resume that I'm actually RoboCop.

Must be visually able to use a computer continuously throughout the work day. - Is this the PC way of saying "No Blind People"??

WORK ENVIRONMENT

Noise level is usually moderate, but can be loud. - What? Speak up!

The environment may be fast paced at times, requires the ability to rapidly accept change, requires the ability to handle multiple tasks and set priorities, and requires the ability to handle significant amounts of stress. - there's that "stress" word again...I'm beginning to sense a pattern forming.

Will work inside and outside throughout the year and may be exposed to extreme weather conditions. The employee is frequently exposed to high, precarious places. - After a couple of cases of Mountain Dew, I'm in!

Suffice to say, I did not submit my resume based upon the slightly daunting requirements.

I guess my career having sex with fat dwarfs on high wires in the middle of hurricanes, while bird watching will have to go on the back burner for now.

Oh, and the job is in ROCHESTER NY! To whomever "lands" that position, I have one thing to say:

May God protect your soul!

The Post Lay Off Bender - A National Tradition?

My thought process was quite linear after being unceremoniously ousted from my former place of employment - get blind, stinking drunk.

And so, after depositing my personal effects at my house, I immediately took to the highway and out to my aunt and uncle's home to drown my sorrows and test the capacity of my hardening liver. I could have called friends or a girlfriend (if I had one at the time), but serious times call for family.

Some time alone on the highway in my small, ancient car proved more of a hindrance than a help. Thoughts began to swirl in my mind, such as:

"Why me?"
"Did I fuck up?"
"Everyone liked me. Or, at least they pretended well."

Then rage, my old friend, showed up.

"Me. They let me go and they kept so and so. Not one executive assistant was let go. God forbid any of the top tier should have to make their own photocopies."

And

"Darlene. They kept stupid fucking Darlene! Darlene can barely form a sentence! She doesn't even do anything! Her mind is like a black hole!!! Dark matter into which all things are sucked! What is her position??? Oh! I know. Her position is: resident product of nepotism! That's her position! Her cousin or uncle or someone dropped a shit load of money into the company and now, little, lost Darlene needs a place to park her busted grill and, low and behold, its at the company. She's still there. But, of course she is!"

And (my personal favorite)

"What about salary reductions??? No one there has the skill set I have. If all the fat cats took a slight pay cut, countless positions could have been saved and more people would be enjoying the holidays, rather than deciding between the economy sized canister of Welbutrin or Zoloft on Christmas eve!"

As my rage sent the vein in my forehead a'thumpin', I hit a nice, thick cluster of traffic. I believe I yelped or some such at this point.

Thankfully I settled, arrived at my aunt and uncle's home and was sitting with a tall vodka and cranberry before the five o'clock news began.

When the anchor announced "...over half a million lay-offs in November alone!" I smiled cynically.

This was back in the beginning of December and I could only surmise what the numbers were going to be come January.

With this thought and the vodka settling sweetly in my head, I made the executive decision that "Tonight, I will not even think about my next move. Tonight, I will drink until I feel nothing but euphoria!"

And, so I did. Cheers!

Superfun Activity for the UnEmployed: #2 Grow a Nappy Beard or Those Dreads You've Been Dreaming About

When life hands you lemons, make yourself look like a homeless person and/or Rastafarian.

Being unemployed garners you a unique opportunity to investigate the many variations grooming or lack thereof affords!

Cleanin out the office! YAY!

After some consoling words from my manager, I ambled from the conference room and back to my office.

I stood, staring at the desk where I had spent the greater portion of two years. The desk where I hung various photos, postcards and pieces of memorabilia. A Yankees ticket. A stub from a Broken Social Scene show in Brooklyn. A photo of my parents and brother. A photo of the family dog wearing a straw hat. A pile of media passes hanging from lanyards on a push pin (hint to what field I'm in).

My desk was also disorganized as hell. My work laptop was half buried in papers, folders and tapes. DVDs in and out of their cases were strewn about.

I remember taking a deep breath and sitting down in the rolly work chair, attempting to process the fact that I had to "move out."

I wasn't angry (yet), I was shell shocked. I attempted to apply some logic.

"Well" I thought "This is happening everywhere."

I began to wax philosophic, considering the myth of permanence and the acceptance of life in constant stasis.

"Our body's cells die and experience a rebirth on a constant basis. Our molecules are always moving. Bouncing and changing. Permanence is the great myth. Comfort is a false premise. Stability is an idea, built on a foundation of cloud matter."

And so, as I took down my office decor, I allowed myself to see the big picture and find some solace in that.

My officemate/friend returned a short while later. He was not totally surprised, but he seemed genuinely bummed out.

"They came to get you?" he said "While I was taking a piss??? That's not cool!"

"Yeah" I replied "Don't think they were taking your whereabouts into consideration."

Several employees who I thought could care less about my being laid off appeared in my office, tears welling. Others, who joked around with me on a daily basis and seemed to enjoy working with me, were nonchalant and seemingly apathetic about the whole affair. I think they were just glad it wasn't them.

And so, instead of a box, I opted for a bag (a couple of bags, actually). I had to leave the work laptop and various other items that I used at work and home. Not only do they take your job, your pay and your benefits away from you, but they also take anything you used that they paid for.

I would not have been surprised if they had torn my clothes from me, hosed me off with a jet of ice cold water and tossed me out in the street. I mean, they indirectly paid for my clothes.

Instead, like some twisted anti-Santa, I lugged my bulky sacks out into the main office area, said quick goodbyes to those I liked and exited.

Next stop: Vodka-ville!

Superfun Activity for the UnEmployed: #1 Start a Swedish Dance Band with Other Unemployed Friends!!!

The only two prerequisites are you must be:

1. Ugly
2. Unaware
2a) Possibly asexual

The PITfalls of COBRA insurance (and the conclusion of "The Den of the Cat Lady")

So, the lovely Enis missed my wry attempt at humor, plowing ahead at a steady clip.

"Perseus" she said, startling me with her informal address "Now you can go back to your office, collect your things and head home. You do not have to finish the work day."

"What a glorious assertion!" I thought "This will allow me to beat the crowds to happy hour!"

I looked to my manager, who was jotting down some notes on a piece of paper. Most likely a list for the grocery store or potential names for his unborn children. Eggplant. Radishes. Cheerios. Donald. Tyler. Taylor. Tommy. Tunsis.

He paused and turned to me "Perseus. There is no rush. You don't have to leave this instant."

"I'm actually in the middle of a project right now, what happens to that?" I inquired, not realizing how naive I probably sounded.

"You can finish it, but you don't have to" my manager stated, injecting as much forced empathy into his words as he could muster "Whatever you would like to do, Perseus."

Enis, the HR hag, had a cold smirk forming on her face. Her job was done. Time for me to get my ass up so that they could drag in the next poor bastard.

I then realized "What about my health insurance?"

Enis' smirk flattened and flirted with devolving into a grimace. She recovered quickly, however, employing the skills she honed at the Devry School for Hatchetwomen.

"Your health benefits will be up at the end of this month. Then you will be eligible for Cobra insurance" she said.

"Cobra Insurance" I thought "That sounds dangerous!"

Allow me to digress for a moment. Not sure what acronym wiz kid came up with "Cobra" as a form of health insurance you can buy after bad shit happens, but he should be dragged out of his home and thrown into a pit of ,yes, COBRAS! Writhing, biting, venomous cobras! A brimming pit of deadly, hooded snakes ready to paralyze him with their venom and devour his flesh.

After initially recoiling at Enis' mentioning of "Cobra" insurance, I asked "How much does it cost?"

Here's the kicker folks, its really expensive.

So, basically, your employer stops paying you and covering your health benefits and then, to make themselves feel better, they offer you SLIGHTLY cheaper insurance that you can pay for with the money that...wait, you don't have any money....so you pay for the insurance with....hold on...something doesn't add up here........

And, to top off that gorgeous mountain of shit, the insurance is called COBRA.

"Enis, would you give Perseus and I a moment alone?" asked my manager.

Enis nodded knowingly, attempting to project the image of a despondent grandmother or consoling nun.

"Of course" she said.

Upon the hatchetwoman's ninja like exit, my manager turned to me and put his hand on my arm.

I prayed for a sexual harassment suit. Unfortunately, his hand rested on my arm and did not wander to regions that would help sate my litigious hunger.

"Perseus. I hope you know that you will be missed and that it has nothing to do with eliminating you, its just your position" he said, all sad eyed.

I felt I had heard this before. These words, but I couldn't quite place them.

"If there is anything I can do for you, Perseus, please, let me know" he offered, giving my arm a friendly squeeze.

"Yes" I thought "You could GIVE ME A JOB!"

Or, you could inappropriately fondle me so that I would have grounds to sue the company.

Either way.

In Response to John's Inquiry in the Comment Section

Here's what Wiki says about the ol pink slip>

Pink slip refers to the American practice, by a personnel department, of including a discharge notice (printed on pink paper) in an employee's pay envelope to notify the worker of his or her termination of employment or layoff.[1] According to an article in The New York Times, the editors of the Random House Dictionary dated the term to at least 1910.[1] Originally the color of the paper had no particular significance. In the UK and Ireland the equivalent of a pink slip is a P45, in Belgium the equivalent is known as a C4. - Wikipedia

-It seems the pink slip dates back to a time before people like "Enis" and "sensitivity training" existed. A time when men drank whiskey in the office and women prepared a sumptuous roast, while chain smoking and fantasizing about the latest blender to hit the market. ~P

In the conference room (or "The Den of the Cat Lady") part 2

And so, the HR specialist I have aptly dubbed "Enis" continued speaking to me. She was very calm and succinct, describing exactly what was happening and why.

It was similar to a mother describing to her son what happens to his pet hamster after it dies.

"So, Jimmy, Mr.Funkychunks isn't dead. He is just on a big hamster wheel in the sky, running with all of the other hamsters in hamster heaven."

And, just like Jimmy, I was too overwhelmed by what was actually occurring to listen to the explanation being delivered.

Instead I just heard my internal voice repeating "I'm being laid off. I'm being laid off. Holy fuck. I'm actually being laid off."

Enis continued explaining, the words melding together into an amorphous din. "Blah Blah - turn in your key card - Blah Blah - health insurance is up at the end of the month - Blah Blah - Cobra - Blah Blah - you must sign this, acknowledging that we spoke - Blah Blah - an empty box will be provided for your personal effects."

This last part caught my attention.

"An empty box?" I asked.

Enis stopped speaking, surprised that she had jarred me out of my layoff induced stupor.

"Yes" she replied "An empty box for your things. In your office."

I laughed. The thought of riding the NYC subway home after being laid off, in the midst of massive citywide lay offs, holding a box with all of the shit from my office clinking around in it was absurdly amusing.

Could they possibly be any more insensitive? Do I want an empty box. Jesus-tap-dancing Christ.

I responded to Enis with a sarcastic inquiry "Do I get a t shirt that says 'Just Been Laid Off' in addition to the empty box?"

She was dumbfounded, or at least appeared so.

Her brow furrowed. She adjusted her glasses and cocked her head, as if to say "Well, I've never been asked that question before. And I've been telling people they are being laid off for several decades now."

She pondered my question for a few moments more. I finished my coffee, smiling at old Enis.

"No" she finally said "We don't have any such t shirts."

In the conference room (or "The Den of the Cat Lady") part 1

During happier times, when one was summoned to the conference room, it was for a surprise birthday celebration. A smile would creep across the birthday boy or girl's face, imagining those decadent cupcakes and soft baked chocolate chip cookies waiting idly upon a platter on the conference room table.

One would quicken one's stride and allow a twinkle to manifest itself in one's eyes, anticipating a cadre of coworkers, all seated around the long table, smiling and twinkling back.

Alas, there were no cupcakes and twinkling co-workers on this dark day. Instead, I was greeted by a stoic, severe woman in her mid to late fifties, grasping a white manila envelope, displaying an expression of forced concern and faux empathy.

She knew I knew why she was there. She also knew I knew that she was being paid specially to carry out this most heinous task.

Her eyes almost whispered "I know this is hard for you, but, my thirty five cats have to eat."

No Whiskas this week. Fancy Feast and caviar were back on the menu.

The woman, whom I shall call Enis for its similarity in sound and spelling to a certain part of the male anatomy, motioned for me to sit down after shaking her ice hold talon, I mean, hand.

I seated myself, crossed my legs and took a long, leisurely sip of my coffee.

I wanted to embody dignity and poise. I wanted to appear relaxed. I wanted my body language to state that while others may have broken down, plead, shivered, or screamed out, they would get no such reaction out of me.

I was a dedicated nationalist captured by the enemy. I would have spit in Enis' face, if I knew it would not have endangered my severance pay. I would have thrown my coffee to the ground and stood upon the table, demanding freedom from tyranny, if it was actually applicable to the situation.

Instead, however, I sat. I sat and I listened to Enis, while my manager sat nearby looking downtrodden.

Enis began with "I do not work for the company, but am here on the company's behalf. I have been hired as an outside representative. The company has decided that the only way to continue to exist and turn a profit is to cut costs. Part of that cost cutting initiative includes reducing the workforce and eliminating various positions."

Translation: "The people who run this place and do the least, but make the most, want to continue making the most and realize that by cutting a large number of those making the least, they can continue to make the most."

2nd Translation: "You are fucked, sonny boy."

I continued to sit, sipping my tall Americano. Then Enis spoke those prophetic words. Words so latent with bullshit, I was surprised they were able to fly so nimbly from her lips:

"Its not you. Its your position."

I think I nodded.

Enis continued "The company has decided to eliminate your position. It has nothing to do with you personally."

"No. Nothing at all, Enis old girl" I thought.

Can I see you in the conference room?

Yes. When your manager or supervisor pops his/her grim visage into your office doorway and utters these words, close out the Smurf porn on your work PC and take a deep breath: you are being laid off.

It happened to me this way. I was minding my own business, sipping coffee, chatting online with a friend who, ironically enough, had been laid off three weeks earlier, when my manager showed up at my office.

There had been a scare moments earlier when my friend mistook my absence due to a coffee run for me being paid a visit by the aptly named "angel of death."

The Google Chat conversation went something like this (I have used the name "John" to protect my friend's dubious identity, and to demonstrate how unoriginal I can be when selecting false names):

John: Dude? You there?

(some time elapses while I meander over to Starbucks for a tall Americano. My G-Chat button turns orange indicating that I am away from my computer)

Upon my return, I see his waiting message. I respond.

Perseus: Hey

John: Phew. You didn't reply and I thought they had come to get you.

Perseus: Ha. No. Just went for some coffee.

At that precise moment, after I hit the return key, my manager arrived, requesting that I join him in the conference room.

My breath caught in my throat as I nodded at the disembodied head in the doorway. I rose from my seat like a lifeless automaton and ambled numbly behind my lumbering manager.

I was paraded out into the main office area for all of my colleagues to gaze upon with a mixture of relief that it wasn't them and pity (more the former than the latter).

A circus act. A sacrificial lamb. A poor bastard being led to his professional demise.