As some of you may know, the economy has us, in its’ crosshairs. Our profitable little carpentry business, for which I have handled the accounting for, during the past 22 years, while being a stay at home mom, finally took a direct hit. Our large profitable jobs, slowly dwindled down to small, thank God we have any of them, jobs. The diminished income combined, with 2 of the brood in college, left me no choice but, to pick out a refrigerator box for 6, or leave the pack unattended, and get a job.
I could not believe anyone would hire me …. I hadn’t earned a paycheck in over 22 years … let alone begin to remember the name of any prior boss. My resume was a desolate place – I mean, was there really any point to listing how many words per minute I could chisel into a stone tablet, or that I knew how to use a telex machine. [tel-eks] - [ Noun: A two-way teletypewriter service, channeled through a public telecommunication system, for instantaneous direct communication between cavemen]. Additionally, any person capable of providing a reference for me, or verifying a pay rate, was surely incommunicado at the Golden Age Retirement home now.
I could not bring myself to apply for anything that involved me asking “do you want fries with that”, so I sent out a few resumes to companies that did not call for a graduate degree in bio physics, a reference from the Pope, or firsthand knowledge of heart transplants. I expected nothing in return and tried to convince myself minimum wage was my destiny.
I took the first job offered, at the local home improvement center, facing the fact that, I was doomed to spend life as a happy cashier, on an eternal quest to ring up purchases for weird, smelly people. While working that job during Holiday time, kept me very busy, I would not call dealing with the public or "people skills", my strongest suit. Once January began, and the steady mad rush of customers with entertaining neurosis, had dwindled, to just your average mean people, my employment outlook was grim.
Imagine my surprise, when several weeks later, I was called in for an interview, for the position of administrative assistant to the president, at a decent sized company, in a neighboring town.
I navigated the interview, successfully answered the president's enigmatic “special interview question”, got the job, and started my 9-5 career! Suddenly it dawned on me; running a carpentry business, and raising 4 kids for the past 22 years, had given me incredible organizational skills, a high tolerance for idiocy, and the skills to take on any task the company needs done. (Sans Bio Physics, dealing with the Pope, and / or transplanting hearts). I think I am going to hit the boss man up for a raise soon.
The following is the actual resume I sent out, that landed me an interview, and ultimately a job, for a pretty great company:
Drea Dibbles
1 Smith Lane
Small Town, PA 19105
xxx-xxx-xxxx
EDUCATION: 1984 Graduate
Small Town High School
Small Town, PA 19105
EXPERIENCE:
1988- Present: Co owner and administrator of -------- Carpentry
I handle all administrative phases of running ------ Carpentry, a carpentry company of 1-8 employees, that installs interior trim and custom millwork, including; payroll, state and federal taxes and returns, bank reconciliations, customer service, collections, data entry, phones, appointment scheduling and lead follow up. I have extensive experience with QuickBooks, QuickBooks Pro, Microsoft Word, Excel and iphone app. known to man. I am familiar with social networking and would be your neighbor in Farmville.
I orchestrate, run and rule a large home with 4 very intelligent ADHD children, ages 22, 18, 15 & 11, an ADHD husband, a Great Dane, 2 Akita / Mastiff mixes, a cat, and an ever changing collection of miscellaneous town children, who come and go and eat my food.
I have a good attention to detail, and have managed to thus far keep all family members out of jail and continual visits to the principal’s office (this is impressive if you know #3). I create order out of continual chaos. I am unflappable and some people are afraid of me.
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