So, um yeah. As I talked about in my last post, we’re unexpectedly closing our paint and sip studio in August, and hopefully opening a tattoo studio, which means we’re about to be very, very broke for awhile. As such, I thought I should polish up my resume and cover letter in the event that I have to break down and get a…what’s that word again? Oh yes, “job.” Working for someone else. <insert sobbing, moaning, wailing, and gnashing of my pearly whites which really need to be whitened before a job interview> I don’t wanna. We all know that there’s a standard form cover letters should take, and I’ve written and read hundreds of them. My favorite applicant when I worked at a law firm was a girl who wrote, “My friends all tell me that I have great “ADT” (Attention To Detail).” Apparently, she had a great security system, too?

If I submitted the following cover letter, would you hire me?

Dear Person Who Holds My Fate In Their Hands,

You should hire me. I’m all, like, smart and stuff. As the man in the oval office says, “I know words. I have the best words. I have the best. But there is no better word than stupid.” While I do have the best words like our Cheeto in Chief, I disagree that the best word is “stupid.” The best word, obviously, is “pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis.” Break that bad boy out at a party and everyone will be asking what you want for breakfast – you know, after you’ve spent the night…because they’ll all be extremely attracted to you…like you should be attracted to me right now – only not in the I-want-to-sex-you-up kind of way, but in the I-want-to-offer-you-a-ridiculously-high-paying-job-for-little-to-no-work kind of way. I have a husband. Just to be clear. And even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t sleep with my boss. So knock that thought right out of your head, bub. Or lady. Either one.

You should hire me not just because I know the best words, but because I view tedious tasks to be like meditation. My mantra? Collate, collate, coooooollaaaaate. Okay, so I don’t actually know what collating is, and my understanding is that most printers will just do it for you if you click the right button, but you get the idea. I figure I can get the printer to do the work and spend the afternoon putzing around marketing on Facebook on my phone. You can tell I’m not a millenial because I said “Facebook” and not “Snapchat,” but I’m still very social media savvy. I swear. I even have a Twitter account for my vagina. It twats regularly.

Also, I’m a blast at holiday office parties. I bring bourbon. Which is my other mantra. Bourbon, bourbon, boooouuuurboooonnn. Not that I would drink bourbon on the job – unless I got tired of collating, I guess. No, I stick to only vodka while at work so that, if I spill it, it doesn’t stain any paperwork I’m doodling on. I’m an artist. Artists are totally known for being dependable and grounded and responsible. Every document I prepare for you will be nicely decorated, giving it that certain je ne sais quoi. As you can seen, I’m practically fluent in French. I know all the best French words, like stupide.

I have a horrific phobia of talking on the phone, so if you’re like my last boss and would prefer to spend all day “networking” with all the “single” ladies in town instead of taking calls, I’m your girl. I will actively avoid talking on the phone at all times and let every call go straight through to voicemail. You can blame it on me and I can blame it on you. You’ll never have to speak to another client again, and neither will I! That’s what we call a “win-win” in the biz.

Anyway, you should totes hire me to, like, do all the work-type things. Shoot me a text with your offer!

Okaysies,

Emily