Monday, July 19, 2004

I f-ing hate jobhunting. I f-ing hate jobhunting. I f-ing hate jobhunting....

So here I am trying to apply for a job as an artist at a jewelry manufacturer. All potential hires have to fill out a lengthy Peoplesoft online application form. No biggie, I think. I open my resume and begin cutting and pasting various info into the form when suddenly, some security screen pops up, saying that I'm taking up too much of the system's valuable time and that it's going to cut me off. (Mind you, I'm simply cutting and pasting lines from my resume, not composing long-winded prose or writing out my life story or anything.) I quickly hit the back button, only to find the information I just entered has been erased. Gritting my teeth, I try again, only to have the exact same thing happen five minutes later. I then fire off a curt-sounding e-mail to the company, saying that if they want me to work for them, they'd better damn well provide me with a name and address where I can send an honest-to-God paper resume. I know it probably won't do me much good. (Thinking about it now, I have to wonder if the whole online application thingie wasn't a scam of some sort. Some psychological test meant to "cull the herd" and separate those with patience and resourcefulness from those who, like me, are fed-up-to-here with the mind games, gateways and other shit employers like to pull just because they can.)

In any case, it's only Monday morning and I'm already tapped out, energywise. And I can't seem to think of a way to end this log entry without sounding incredibly lazy and unimaginative.

Feh. Fuggit...