What Might Have Been

I wrote a big long screed about how cool it is to watch the parents on my f-list talk about the daily trials and tribulations of raising their kids and how much I love reading about it. And how bitterly insanely jealous I am of people who actually get to watch their kids grow up. But it was making me cry so hard I finally said fuck that, and deleted the whole thing.

So tell you what, parents give your kids an extra kiss from me when you put them to bed tonight and we'll leave it at that.

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I've been reading all these FIND A JOB IN 24 HOURS GET THE JOB OF YOUR DREAMS WRITE A RESUME THAT MAKES MANAGERS WET THEIR PANTS EXCLAMATION POINT EXCLAMATION POINT EXCLAMATION POINT books in the last couple of weeks, and I've finally figured out what my problem is. In order to get a job, you have to be good at sales. A resume is basically a formalized sales pitch.

Sales is pretty much the ONLY thing I can't do.

So there's me fucked.

It also explains a lot about the blatant level of incompetance I encounter at every level in every company I've ever dealt with for, well, anything. They don't hire people who can do the damn job. They keep hiring fucking salesmen.

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I think I am in a dysfunctional relationship with the world.