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Friday, March 12, 2010CURRICULUM VITAE Just recently, I had the daunting task of chucking a CV together for myself. All the time I was trawling through my cranial sludge, trying to remember lost years & memorable employers, I kept thinking about the person who would actually read about me & my 'working' life. If I were to put myself in their shoes, I'd be shredding my CV at warp speed. Mind you, I must admit, some bloody good memories resurfaced. My only hope is that whoever gets to read my CV will have a sense of humour, even if the shredder sits hovering. A hypothetical interview would go something like this............ (PE - Prospective Employer, probably young enough to be my son/daughter) PE: I see you were educated in England, but you haven't listed any qualifications? ME: Nah, that's cos my parents hatched a cunning plan to emigrate, so I was dragged kicking & screaming from high school 3mths before sitting my O-Levels. They gave me the choice of going back to school or trying to find a job when we settled & being a rebel-without-a-clue, I chose the latter. PE: What did you study at college? ME: Computer programming, but what I learnt is obsolete now. Remember when computers ran on magnetic tape? PE: Ummmm, no. *confused look* OK, moving on...........you were a nurse for a while? Why did you leave? ME: Well, one of the ward sisters was a real psycho - if she was in charge during the night-shift & there was a full moon that night, whoa, she'd do some pretty strange things. Another ward sister made me go up to the mortuary & extract the dentures out of a patient who'd died 2 days previously..........jeez, you ever tried prising a stiffs mouth open & cranking the jaws open wide enough to get the dentures out? I was alot stronger in those days. Scary stuff! I guess I finally left after I told the hospital matron she wasn't fit to sweep floors, let alone nurse sick patients. She refused to enter a private ward because it smelled unpleasant. The patient was dying from stomach cancer. I stayed with him until he died, but the matron wouldn't even go in his room & that offended me. PE: Ahhhh...........well.......it says here that you worked for a major supermarket chain in the early 90's. Can you tell me what your duties involved? ME: Well, I was in charge of handling & banking all of the fat back-hander cheques that suppliers gave the company for special 'promotions'. I had the responsibility of the Company petty cash & much of my time was spent asking Company reps that travelled vast distances, just exactly what made them so special that they could have a chelsea bun with their cup of tea at a freeway service station. My supervisor was fanatical about the petty cash & considering she was a (retired) major in the armed forces I didn't want to challenge her. If she could save the Company 50 cents on a jam doughnut, she would. The Cash Office was a place where only the brave would approach the 'teller' type window. I think I survived longer than my predecessors because I've got a sense of humour...........plus the fact I mastered the art of understanding my supervisors speech defect. I never did get to meet 'Birry' from the bank though. PE: You state that you worked for a glass company - can you tell me what your duties involved? ME: Mainly dealing with stupid people. It could be a very challenging job some days, especially when a customer wanted a piece of glass that had been measured with a length of wool, which stretches. *sigh* I must admit I enjoyed my job though & had a great boss. PE: Why did you leave? ME: Because my husband was working expat status & he said I no longer had to work, as we were financially stable. PE: Oh..............but after being out of the 'workplace' for some 12yrs, why do you want to start again? ME: How long have you got?  
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