I found the job I've been looking for: a Library Assistant at a local public library. 15 bucks an hour, benefits, not too shabby. So I re-tooled my resume for the job, am working on a cover letter, and have my dad agree to proof read it for me. Works out. Then I'm at the website looking at the job posting. Not only do they want a resume and a cover letter, understandable, but they want me to fill out an application. And some other stuff. And I can't e-mail or fax it; I can only turn it in via mail or driving the forty minutes to the city hall from my house.
It got me thinking of other jobs I've applied to. Jobs where I've sent them a copy of my resume off of monster or a similar website. Then, my actual resume. Then, I need to register on their website and fill out a huge application. I get it; they want to weed out the best candidates. But come the fuck on. Is it necessary for me to send you the information three times? Three times? What are you looking for? Inconsistencies? The Library job requires me to fill out forms for drug testing and background checks. Why not have me do that at the interview? At least give them to opportunity to see if they want to hire me. But no. I need to fill out and sign with a witness. For a job I probably won't get because I'm just barely under-qualified. So, it takes me about an hour or so per job I apply for. Why can't I just send a resume, maybe a cover letter, and have them get back to me? Let me know if it's worth it to fill out the rest of this shit for them. I'll give you a hint: it never seems worth it.
Also, glad everyone enjoyed my drunken posts last night. It was pretty great. Me and some friends got good and plastered. We started a fight club after the show we went to. Someone called the cops. We then had to explain to them that we weren't fighting fighting; we were friends "fighting." One of the cops called us idiots and told us to quote "Call a cab, and get the fuck out of here. This is literally the dumbest thing I have ever witnessed." I high fived the other cop around back of the squad car. He said "You guys are ridiculous. Don't mind him, he's just a dick. Have a good night." We finished our fight club outside of a friend's apartment. I lost. But nothing more than a few bruises and a couple of scratches on us. Then we drank some more. After that, we passed out, scattered around his apartment. It was a good night.