Races Like a Girl

It’s funny that on the weekend that I am tasked with redoing my résumé in order to satisfy the procurement requirements of a creative agency that would like to hire me for some freelance work, I have also been offered the challenge of describing myself in the style of a Time Magazine cover article.

It’s 3:06 on Saturday and thus far I have managed to avoid touching my dusty CV with all manner of legitimate and illegitimate distractions. I did 90 minutes of stretching and strengthening exercises, people. I think that should more than make up for the fact that I was watching this at the time.

Just as I was about to fire up the teakettle and get to work, TK’s challenge arrived. You can read about the details here. But it’s basically like a sophisticated version of Mad Libs (I know; I’m dating myself.) Since writing funny shit about myself is much more enjoyable than trying to describe my dubious skills to an anonymous HR person, I’m going to answer her call (although I’m breaking form by not using all caps). I’ve still got all day tomorrow, after all. Or maybe I can kill two birds and just make this my résumé:

One of the humans admiring them is Julie Threlkeld. Threlkeld is a member of another perennially threatened species, the pessimistic, repressed introvert with no sense of direction. But she’s not as sanguine about it as others. She’s grateful to be smarter than a box of hammers. She’s a physically sturdy woman, 5 ft. 5 in., with linebacker shoulders and legs resembling tree trunks, but her posture is not so much hunched as unconcernedly collapsed. At 45 (she was 44 before her last birthday), Threlkeld gets carded regularly, which mystifies her given that her hair is as heavily salted as a large serving of fries from Arthur Treacher’s. For awhile her hair was blonde. But that was bankrupting her, financially and otherwise. Can we stop with the hair now?

Okay. Who’s next?

Filed under: everyday life |