Despite not being sure whether my next steps are a new corporate ladder or a cute etsy shop, I worked on my resume last week.
The side of me that is an unabashed corporate drone and professional seller of wares has an incredibly annoying habit of squeezing in what I used to do when I meet people. "Oh, you know the [insert name of brand I used to work for here] ad on TV right now? That's mine. Well, it's my team's," I say like a complete JACKASS because my old office probably already smells like the new guy in it who, yes, I looked up on linked in.
This girl needs to let go a little.
The drink coffee, write, spend your days playing with your baby and going to Target side of me was mildly rude to Deanna, my assigned spousal relocation counselor when she suggested I update my resume but I did so nonetheless because I follow rules well. While crafting bullet points about strategy, sales results, and inspirational coaching, though, I remembered that my office frequently felt like a jail cell and pitied the new guy in it.
The first draft of my resume captures my betwixt and between status.
High on caffeine during naptime and feeling inspired by the little man who was upstairs running plastic cups against his crib rails instead of napping, I chuckled and hit "send" with this included in my draft resume:
- Expertise in product marketing, developing strategy, battling bullshit, fighting with R&D, ignoring Consumer Insights, and delivering positive same store sales.
My professional half made sure to include action words, buzzwords, and results but even her polished corporate poise couldn't keep the other half at bay.
Best. Resume. Ever.