I’m currently in the throes of an all-out search for satisfying, paying writing assignments. Which at times has me popping off with all the passion and tact of an insensitive sailor suffering from Tourette’s.

It’s this whole résumé paradigm that has me ready to reformat someone’s rear end! My new credo:

When you assume, you make an ass out of u and me. When you résumé, you pull a lot of stuff out of your ass and file it under the haughty French nom theoretically giving all that crap some much-needed cred.

People even adopt a bit of an accent when talking about it.

“Could you for-waaahd me your…ahem…résumé?”
“Oh, please do allow me to for-waaahd you my…ahem…résumé.”
 

And when did French become too cliché? What genius decided to get Latin on our derrières?

“Could you send me your CV?”
“My what?”
“Your CV?”
“Wait…my what what?”
“Your C. V.”
“… … Oh, my seeee…breeee…?”
“YOUR C! V!”
 
Panic! Is he saying my TV? My CD? My teepee? My green tea? My precious, tattered and worn copy of “Sense and Sensibility?” He’s not getting my TV.
 

Pardon my French, but EFF ME! Je suis désolé, but I find it all so…terriblement passé!

For nearly two decades I’ve been entrenched in one kind of job or another. And while I admit to sending out a résumé or two during some of the more stressful stretches of employment, I didn’t really feel the need to stringently maintain a summary of my work history. I thought I was happy doing what I was doing. Until I realized I wasn’t. Now, I’ve become more aware of what would truly fulfill me and make me smile every morning when the sun’s early rays kiss my soft, smiling lips.

Only people keep asking me for my TV!

(Attention prospective employers or writing project partners, here’s some of what there is to know about me: All About Me!)

Til next time! But before you go, what’s your take?

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