I Don’t Think You Can Handle This Job

So you think you want this job, huh?  You feel like it’s a “good fit”?  If you think you’ve got what it takes, raise your hand.  Now raise your other hand.  Now keep them up there.  Give me a good five minutes of hand raising.  

Okay, put them down.  That was pretty hard, right?  Well guess what.  That’s nowhere near as hard as this job.  

This job is a cruel mistress.  It will chew you up and spit you out its butt.  One minute, this job will take you in its warm embrace, and the next minute it will give your dog a Cleveland steamer.  If this job were a person, it would be really hot and nice sometimes, and really ugly and mean other times.  

I see you’re still here.  You must like having your butt kicked, because I assure you, that’s what will happen.  This job will kick your butt.  

You know how a cashmere sweater from J. Crew is really soft?  Well, this job is nothing like a cashmere sweater from J. Crew, because it’s hard.  Like rocks or something.  

Don’t bother unpacking your things, because you won’t be here very long.  Don’t even open your lunch, because you can just pick something up on the way home.  What I’m saying is, you’ll be gone before lunch.  

Whenever I see that show Deadliest Catch on TV, I say, “Eh, it doesn’t look that bad,” because this job makes Alaskan king crab fishing seem not that bad.  

Sometimes, I think my dreams are actually my conscious life, and this job is just a recurring nightmare.  

I hope I’m communicating clearly.  You think you want this job, but this job will ravage your life.  

Okay.

Now, you’ll be sharing an office with Mark, and we usually order pizza on Friday.  My treat.  

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