Oompa, Loompa Doom-pa-dee-do

You know, let me just say right up front that when I first started my current job as a recruiter over three years ago, I never ever imagined I'd experience the gamut of emotions I go through every day just reading resumes. Glorious resumes. 

At first I thought it was neat, getting a sneak peek into people's lives and what they've been doing with themselves. I was fascinated with how they represented themselves on paper.

"Oooh look! She went to CSUN like I did, oh, and same time frame too. I wonder if she was in any of my classes?" or "Damn. He studied to be an oceanographer like I wanted to. I'm so jealous."

As the month's went by I started being a little more opinionated about what I was reading. "He was a member of  -fill in the blank- fraternity? Pull-ease. I'm callin' him but he's gonna be a cocky son of a bitch." or "This dude's an accountant, let's see if my phone call with this guy will be equivalent to talking to a wall." 

You get the idea. 

But now? 

I've evolved into a snarky, sarcastic bitch. Plain and simple. The resumes have worn me down. 

Even though I work for a large company, our particular office is really small. And it's either loud and bustling with the phone ringing off the hook and agents blowing in and out creating a whirlwind of activity, or it's as quiet as a morgue. Maybe quieter. I would even go so far as to say that sometimes it's so quiet, you can hear a spider fart. (Yes, that's pretty damn quiet. But if you've been in there when this takes place, you can attest to the fact that I'm completely on target with my analysis.)

Anyhoo- because it's usually so quiet, and such a small office, my poor co-workers are subjected to listening to my weird roller coaster ride of demented emotional reactions. First I'm laughing, then I'm saying out loud "WHAT?!? You've GOT to be kidding me!" then I grit my teeth and start seething. My poor co-workers...they endure a lot from me but fortunately, for my sake, they are kind enough to keep their thoughts of me being a fruit loop to themselves. Sometimes I'm so stunned I have to grab the resume and run into their individual offices to show them the madness. Like I need proof I'm not going crazy, that the piece of paper I'm holding ACTUALLY says that ridiculous, non-sensical thing.

While most of the bad resumes usually just keep with the same long theme of stupidity thruout, some are such doozies I have upwards of three to four different emotional reactions, just to one.

Take for example this girl. 

Let's just say her name is Sally.

Sally decided to make her resume 17 pages long. 

Wow! Impressive you say? 

Not so fast. 

Sally had all the usual things one young administrative assistant type would put on her resume, brazenly touting the fact that she "excels with computer skills". I might be impressed or even slightly inclined to agree IF in fact the other 16 pages included accomplishments, skills, or even fluff-ified volunteer work. But Sally had the stupidity to fill each page with the following crap:

amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; amp; 

and the next page was this:

mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a mp;a

So before I even TURNED to the following page, I started singing "Oompa, Loompa, Doom-pa-dee-do! I've got a perfect puzzle for you!" (Don't get all judgey on me people, it was totally a natural progression.)

But then as I kept turning the pages I started getting a little testy. Why? Because it required the limb of an unfortunate tree to print out her silly garbage. Luckily, for the tree's sake, I reuse stupid head paper mistakes like that to the best of my ability. 

I didn't however feel inclined to call the insensitive, tree murdering, non-computer skilled admin.

The End.