The Joy of Printing
The Lemur is a huge fan of Bob Ross. He likes happy little trees and happy accidents and he thinks every bush and cloud and blade of grass needs a friend. Thank goodness, otherwise I would be a very lonely girl. It’s the Bob Ross watchers of the world who decide broken things need love, too.
This broken thing also needs a better day job. I have an interview for a new position within my Great Place to Work tomorrow, which involves printing. Lots and lots of printing.
The joy of printing leaves much to be desired, unlike The Joy of Painting.
My company is scrimping every penny from now until the end of the year, which means everyone has been asked to reduce printing costs. Instead of printing out my portfolio on the full-color printer at work, I’m printing at home from my personal laptop. I had to change my Power Point presentation slides from color to black and white. I did not waste my lovely resume paper for thirty slides, though. I printed them on plain white paper.
The question is, will it even matter? Will my grammar workshop presentation mean anything to my potential new boss? Let me tell you about how we first met, and I’ll let you decide.
I had an interview for this same department in August. Against my better judgment, I said yes to the dress I bought for San Francisco (HA–a dress in San Francisco. I wore jeans and t-shirts the whole time). I pulled my hair back into a severe bun so my interviewer had no idea about my crazy curls. An unfortunate side effect of pulling my hair back like that: my eyes were dry because I was nervous, so my contact slipped to the corner of my eye within the first five minutes of the interview. I did what any oaf with no manners would do. I said, “Oh, sorry, I’m having a contact problem and I’m going to have to fix it.” Did not turn away or leave the room. Slid the contact back onto my pupil so I could fucking see. And continued with the interview.
So then he said, “Let’s go over your resume.”
I looked at him like he was fucking crazy, hopefully stopping short of rolling my eyes at him and saying, “What, you haven’t read it?”
I DID say, “I look better on paper than I present in person.” You know. One of those top things to NEVER say in an interview.
The rest of the interview went well, but I didn’t get the job. He filled the position with someone from his current team, so I applied for that person’s position, and I have an interview tomorrow. I’ve joked that I’ll wear my glasses, but let’s be honest: those nasty things never leave the house.
I love my current position, but I’m ready for something new. I’ve been in my role for six years, and while it has changed completely in that time, I’m bored. It’s not the amount or quality of writing or the audience I want. My current role is, “write it and hope they read it and learn from it, but most likely, they’ll just be pissed.” I’m tired of being hated. This new position gives me a broader audience, instant feedback, and a vast network of subject matter experts to ensure the message is clear.
So I killed a small tree by printing my resume, highlights of my current position, and my ninety day plan. I also harvested that tree’s friend by printing my second fantasy novel for The Lemur. Ah, the joys of printing.
If I have any happy accidents in my interview tomorrow, I’ll drink to Bob Ross.