Unsuccessful Job Application

This self employed artist business is great fun but what lets it down a bit, for me personally, is not selling any work or, for that matter, getting any work and basically being a bum with no money sponging off his parents. As I say, aside from all that it is great but I am a realist so I keep my eyes open for whatever opportunities may come my way.

Carpe Diem.

So naturally my eyes lit up like a magpie's when I saw a friend post this on Facebook;

More CV's please for the runners job I'm interviewing morons at the moment

Get in, not only am I not a moron, I'm one hundred percent capable of fetching things and making cups of tea and there's the friend connection too! Like they say, it's not what you know, it's who you know. I've got this one in the bag.

I chat to her about it a bit, get a bit of information just so I know what I'm getting myself into but really I'm already spending my runner's salary in my head, I'm looking on gumtree for rooms to rent, I'm imagining the parties I'm going to have in my new home, pondering the many sexual conquests that will no doubt follow my change of career and my sudden influx of money and freedom. I've already planned the entirety of 2012 around a steady £12k a year job. This is going to be brilliant. God, I might even buy a car! Might even learn how to drive it, too!

All I need to do is send her my CV. Well my CV's geared towards Art and Design and obviously time's against me here, I need to hand this in ASAP to secure my position and stake my claim. Knowing that time is not on my side, feeling like little baby Zeus about to be swallowed whole by his father Cronos, who consumes us all in the end, I knew what I had to do. I wouldn't be able to write a completely new CV but I could expertly slip a couple of extra lines into my personal statement to seamlessly transform it from an artist's CV into a budding runner's CV.

PERSONAL STATEMENT:

For the last year or so I have been working freelance as a self employed artist; I am passionate about my artwork and love to create pieces of art and design that I can be proud of but my real dream is to work as a Runner in a London based editing and production company. I yearn for the hustle and bustle of life in a production company, the cameraderie as I dish out cups of tea to all the team; I can envision myself on a packed train at seven in the morning with a smile on my face and a song in my heart, knowing that where I’m going, I’m going to make a difference. I am hard working, punctual and reliable, and above all else I am honest and trust worthy.

Job done. With that out of the way and feeling quite content I went back to the business of counting out all the money I'd soon be earning.

Six days later I discover that my application was not successful; no one tells me about it, by chance on Facebook I see an offhand remark that they've already got someone in! I didn't even get to the interview stage! Even morons got to the interview stage if that first status update is to be believed! I fall several rungs below morons on the employment ladder!

I can't even get a job making cups of tea for people, not even when it's a friend taking in the CVs and conducting the interviews!

I don't have to plan out my year again though, because with no real income I can't make plans. I won't name names but not only is this friend now solely responsible for my financial insecurity, I can't even see my friends' exhibition in Cardiff without that sweet runner dollar and though they're putting on a brave face about it I know I've let them down. How many times can I let them down before I'm ostracised completely? Relegated to life as a total social pariah because I can't afford to do anything!

So when I've fallen deep into a spiral of rage and depression, haven't left the house for months, have grown a big fat beard and gone half mad from isolation and spending all my time lost in an imaginary world of revenge fantasies because I can't even afford to go out for a pint and get some meagre contact with other human beings and maintain the tenuous hold on sanity that's kept me going this long, you know who to blame for all of that.