August 18th, 2006

Loz Cola

I also come with years of emotional baggage...

The day is beset with me writing Job Applications.

Yes. Me. I know. I never thought that would have happened either. It's all so scary. I'm applying for employment.

This means, of course, that I have to find several different ways of stating that I am employable as a teacher. Not just employable, but the best darn Britonozzie for the job. Believe it or not, I'm not especially good at selling my good traits.

What do I write?

"Oh, I can type 60 words per minute with my index fingers and one thumb!"

"I have completed an Honours Thesis! It was on Homosexual Themes in the Victorian Gothic, but I think that can translate to teaching 5-12 year olds. Easy."

"I own land in Scotland. A whole square foot of it! It gives me the right to call myself a Lady. I'm planning on getting real estate on the moon soon. Then I can be a Space Lady."

Clearly these are things which will make Principals go, "Yes her! No her! The one gibbering in the corner about life on mars and chicken sandwiches."