As I start the job search in DC, this is the letter I really want to send.
Dear Prospective Employer,
Thank you for posting your most recent position. It has given me a great deal of anxiety as I ruminate over my past failures and try to figure out a way to reconstruct them to sound like positives. Since graduating from college, some 15+ years ago, I haven’t really done much, professionally, so my biggest asset will be my personality. And, I hope to wow you with this letter.
My name is Carla. I’m short, analytical, and reserved. It will take me a few weeks to warm up to you, but once I do, you will have a loyal employee. Unless I lose respect for you. Then, God Bless Your Soul. By the way, I like to wear heels to add some height to my fight.
While it’s true I have degrees in both psychology and accounting, and graduated at the top of my class, I haven’t had the opportunity to pursue either field for a meaningful career. Instead, I’ve spent the last 14 years packing and unpacking my suitcase in about three dozen countries around the world. So, if you are in need of someone skilled in cramming way more than necessary into a weekend getaway, I’m your girl.
If you’re looking for a hot, young, tanned specimen, I’m not your girl. I’m pushing 40, with two kids that give me a few new gray hairs every morning, and I’ve kind of packed on a few pounds since turning 30. Champagne has become my best friend the last decade. And, in case you are wondering, I believe my greatest accomplishment in life, if I’m completely honest, is refraining from strangling my kids to death. At least you know I’m a patient woman.
You should also know I get bored really easily. My mind is a masterpiece, after all, and I have to keep it entertained. So, don’t make me sit behind a desk doing mundane tasks every day for a paycheck. I’ve paid my dues as a mother and wife with those kinds of responsibilities. And, I’ve wiped enough rear ends to last my lifetime; I don’t plan on subjecting myself to that kind of disgrace again.
Finally, I think you should know there was a time in my life I had high hopes and big dreams. I left my small town in Oklahoma believing in the good of people. Then, I moved to Uzbekistan and the decline of my megawatt American smile started. People can be so ugly. If you are one of those ugly people, you shouldn’t hire me. You won’t like what I have to say. But, if you aren’t, then you can help restore my faith in humanity.
Now, if I haven’t completely scared you away, and for some completely unknown reason you actually want to meet me in person, give me call or email me to arrange the most awkward interview you will ever have. I promise not to ride in on my broom. That’s better saved for the first day in the office.
All the Best,