Westchester and the Bee

If you have been reading this blog…at all, you have probably deduced that I don’t like my current job. There, I said it. Now deal with it…I mean me. ANYWAY, rather than sit around and sulk about it, I have actively been applying around and trying to find a job that is more fun and creatively fulfilling (translation: I want more money). Plus, being the competent, very good- looking person that I am, I figure, any company would be lucky to have me!

One tactic I have employed to find my great new job is a little something called: networking. That’s right kids, in addition to submitting many applications online, I have also been asking my friends if THEIR companies were hiring, and praying to God they’d give me a referral. One such friend, Skeet McQueen followed through, and I immediately sent my resume to his company in hopes of securing the interview.

A few days later, Skeet’s HR lady e-mailed me to tell me that my resume looked good, but that I would have to pass a spelling/grammar test before they could proceed with the interview process. So yesterday, I wore my bestest (not a real word) suit, rushed to Skeet’s office, and arrived with just enough time to spend five minutes fretting in the parking lot about where to park.

No sooner had I entered the building than HR Lady B warmly greeted me and whisked me into a little room with no windows and a fax machine where I would be taking the test. Having already declined HR Lady B’s offer for water and/or a potty break, she laid the tests before me, started the timer, and quietly closed the door.

Like many of you, I have taken spelling tests before; however, with spell checkers built into practically every computer applications I use these days, knowledge of how to spell has become a somewhat obsolete art- which is why I immediately began to panic, and sweat.

Going in, I knew I needed to pass this test before I could get the interview-but I guess I just ignored that little voice in my head that was telling me to "study," and instead chose to follow the other, darker voice that was telling me to "drink a lot of beer." I may just be the worst speller ever (*), so clearly, that was a misstep.

Anyway, after my timed hour was up I was surprised to see I had somehow managed to finish the test. I was even more surprised to see that I had also left lipstick fingerprints all over the pages. Thinking quickly on my feet, I explained to HR Lady B that I had PURPOSELY put the lipstick fingerprints there, so if the company lost my name they could identify me through a simple finger print analysis…..and oh how we laughed and laughed at that one.

Sadly realistic artistic representation of my spelling test.

(*) I think my spelling troubles began in the fifth grade when, being too lazy to study, I was never able to muster any grade above a "C" on my spelling tests. Luckily, the teacher was even lazier than I was, and rather than collect and grade our papers, he had us announce our scores out loud or, if we would prefer, we could approach him at the front of the room and whisper it into his ear. Having never cheated a day in my life, I was surprised at how easily the plan formed in my head. Rather than announce to the world that I had, once again, failed my test, I instead would go up to my teacher and quietly tell him I got a “B-.” It was genius really. Well, that was until he uncovered my scheme at the end of the year, and subsequently called my mom (even though I asked him not to). Ever since, I have not been a fan of spelling or whispering.