When I searched on iStock for "email" and "silly," Bigfoot on a Laptop came up. How could I resist?
Every now and then a friend points me to some massive missive I wrote them ages ago and waxes nostalgic or ironic about its contents. It seems I’ve written some pretty epic emails, a few of them practically have LOTR-style soundtracks.
Most recently, I was served up a beast from 2005 wherein I let off a little post-MA job hunting steam with a silly list of faux employment priorities. Given where I am in my career now, I thought it was hilarious to read what 2005 Liesl was jokingly looking for in her first “real” job.
Excerpted below in order of importance:
1. Kitsch Value.
No joke, I actually just applied for a proofreading position for Harlequin romances. My interview preparation will consist solely of earmarking the words “bosom” and “shaft” in my thesaurus.
2. Vacation Time.
“How much vacation time will I get?” is the very first question I ask in an interview. Answer usually generates prolonged sulk and desire to move to Europe.
Namely proximity of work place to bouncy castles and/or derelict warehouses. A busy gal’s gotta get firearm practice in somehow.
4. Sexual Harassment Policy
Preferably weak to non-existent.
5. Dress Code
Ultra-casual: if I can’t wear My Little Pony flannel PJs to work, I’m not interested. Also, crossing my fingers for “Naked Fridays” (see item 4 above.)
6. Free Indoor Parking
I may not own a car, and I can’t even drive, but I need underground parking for illegal solicitation, loitering and shady political dealings.
Management that won’t complain when I decide to upgrade my cubicle to a hot tub with built-in entertainment unit and mini-trampoline (also, if there’s space, a sliding desk).
I refuse to accept anything that is not paid to me in cash, in a brown paper bag.
I refuse to accept benefits that do not fit in a brown paper bag.
10. Office Supplies
Infinite stock of company branded brown paper bags.
…and then I go on to bemoan the dehumanizing experience of unemployment and drift into an in-depth study of the idiosyncratic germophobia and karaoke obsession of my then-roommate in Toronto.
It’s neat that there’s this prolonged period during which emails to friends are the best chronicle of my life. But now with social media, I’m not doing as much of the one-to-one longform messages. There are plus and down sides to this I suppose, but regardless (and as the period between my last blog post and this would not-so-subtly suggest) I know that I need to get back to some more writing.
Oh, I never did get an interview at Harlequin, but thanks to Roget I still know plenty of synonyms for “bosom.”