Must Have Experience

I know, I know, it has been a few months and I am a terrible, awful blogger. Even though I've had plenty to post, this summer was a whirlwind with finishing up my thesis and graduating (needless to say I had little time for wit and verbal thought processes). Now that school is over, I have been expanding my Etsy business full force (chalkpads, belt buckles, Unicorn anatomy, "Awkward Affection" greeting cards, new prints etc), and preparing for the Alternative Press Expo in October (table 206 baby!).

But mainly, I have been applying for jobs. Being an MFA student, I had little expectation of finding a job with ease. I was fully prepared to toil a few months, fully prepared to beg on my knees and whore out my portfolio to anyone that so much as glances in my direction. What I didn't expect was how hard it is to find ANY job. I have written at least eight different cover letters this month for jobs that once were reserved for high schoolers and entry levelers alike - the jobs that you built your experience on, not needed experience to attain. Jobs like "office cleaner," "bakery cashier," generic retail and even Target anything (though I probably just failed that personality test). These jobs now require college level education and 3 years of specific experience. The cashier job at the hobby and toy store down on Market wants two letters of reference and  and "the ability to soothe the sometimes complex communication skills of weary shoppers." A chocolate shop requires a cover letter + resume and desires career oriented applicants. Like...in the chocolate field? Because I am essentially career oriented, and even chocolate oriented, but I also really just want to pay my rent. And those are just from this morning.

But mostly, I want a rejection letter. I want something tangible (internet tangible) that I can hold onto like the creepy girl who asks out the linebacker with a note that says "Do you like me? Check box yes or no" and it comes back "NO" but she saves that piece of paper anyway because it means he touched it and for one whole second thought about her. Yes, I am that mouth breathing, unwashed, straggly haired girl with the mustard stains on her Keds. And without that piece of paper I'll never know if my internet is broken, or if my e-mails secretly aren't sending. I mean, what if I died three months ago and I think I'm living this job applying lifestyle but instead I'm stuck in the same day, doomed to edit cover letters and resume keywords forever? Maybe this sounds crazy, but you'd understand if you only window shop for "help wanted" signs. 

And that brings me to piggy. 

Because this is life. And I think it is time to give up Word documents and go back to my portfolio. 

I'll post some of that next time - and I promise* that the next post will have less words and more pictures!

* I do not promise this