Work on Paper

Yesterday I was asked to send my resume to someone who will be writing a recommendation for me for graduate school. I was calm at the thought of this because at the ripe old age of 28, I have a well thought out resume that is up to date and has been spell checked 14 times. I have spent countless hours making sure the Goudy old Style font is just right and that the word spacing allows for my internships to be included on the bottom, without anything looking cramped. I am really growing up.

Until slowly, like a foul smell blowing in, I reached the conclusion that the resume that I have polished and honed for 6 years, no longer applies to my current aspiring scientist situation. I don't think that resumes define people, but I felt a jolt when I realized that its finally time to reinvent myself, on paper.

It is strange to think that I woke up so many mornings and got myself to work and tried to look presentable for meetings, and tried to fix the computers as best I could and made sure all the lines of text locked to the guides. And now, aside from a general idea of compentence, none of it matters. Although I suppose leaving any job is leaving behind the feeling that the details of it matter.

My old resume is a time capsule and I can roll it up with and place it in a box with a bunch of other musty and dusty trinkets. I know that those design years helped me get where I am today and helped shape me as a person, but it just feels scary and sad now that it is over, really over.