Resume's tight

melodic punk, modern jazz, punk pop, nu-disco, steampunk

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V4.5

Resume's tight like jazz hands in a panic,
Ten tabs open, spiraling manic.
Refreshed LinkedIn like it’s my side hustle,
Still getting ghosted harder than a midlife muscle.

Rebranded burnout as a 'goal,' 
Still drowning in a spreadsheet hole
I networked so hard I sprained my pride
Sent 84 emails, got one "Please unsubscribe".

Refreshed LinkedIn like it’s my part-time gig,
Still ghosted harder than a burnt-out vape rig.
I’m a master of pivot, a guru of grit
But my inbox is just rejection... or spam shit

I’m a suburban standout, khaki-clad dropout,
Gold medal in waiting, burnout in a blackout.
I’m a suburban standout, recliner-bound prophet,
Dreams on layaway, hope in the closet.

CEO of Plan B through Z,
President of “Why Won’t They Hire Me?”
Yeah, I’m a standout - outstandingly broke,
Fluent in sarcasm, spreadsheets, and smoke

Meal-prep dreams, snack on shame,
Got no unemployment, just bills in my name.
Used to lead teams with passion and vision,
Now I barter memes for dopamine hits, no commission.

“For Hire” taped to my bougainvillea,
My business cards printed at IKEA.
Therapist says, “Just try manifesting,”
But I’m stress-snacking through late-stage resting.

But hey, I’ve got vision.
And time.
And forty-seven versions of the same damn cover letter.
Hire me. Or don’t.
I’ll still be out here, standing out

Tried monetizing hobbies, failed with flair,
Even applied to jobs that weren’t really there.
That “interview” link sent me to a shed
Now I bring pepper spray just to job hunt without ending up dead.
Ghosted by HR, scammed by the rest
It's a Craigslist jungle in a LinkedIn vest.

Tried selling feet pics...too niche.
Tried a food blog...ate the niche.
Even launched a podcast: Just Me Crying,
But shockingly, still not monetizing.

Scrolled job boards, perks looked fine,
Clicked “Apply,” next thing? True crime.
Said “on-site interview”, what a twist
I mapped my escape, with a self-defense list.

I’m a suburban standout, burnout incarnate,
CEO of Plan Z, unpaid and snark laced.
Dodging scams in a LinkedIn vest,
Where “hiring now” means “hope for the best.”

But hey, I’ve got vision.
And work ethic
And a 9-millimeter in my tote just to check the job market.
Hire me. Or don’t.
But if your office is in a van with no windows
and “competitive pay” is spray-painted on the side
just know:
I come strapped…
with experience.

2359/7500

Resume's tight like jazz hands in a panic, Ten tabs open, spiraling manic. Refreshed LinkedIn like it’s my side hustle, Still getting ghosted harder than a midlife muscle. Rebranded burnout as a 'goal,' Still drowning in a spreadsheet hole I networked so hard I sprained my pride Sent 84 emails, got one "Please unsubscribe". Refreshed LinkedIn like it’s my part-time gig, Still ghosted harder than a burnt-out vape rig. I’m a master of pivot, a guru of grit But my inbox is just rejection... or spam shit I’m a suburban standout, khaki-clad dropout, Gold medal in waiting, burnout in a blackout. I’m a suburban standout, recliner-bound prophet, Dreams on layaway, hope in the closet. CEO of Plan B through Z, President of “Why Won’t They Hire Me?” Yeah, I’m a standout - outstandingly broke, Fluent in sarcasm, spreadsheets, and smoke Meal-prep dreams, snack on shame, Got no unemployment, just bills in my name. Used to lead teams with passion and vision, Now I barter memes for dopamine hits, no commission. “For Hire” taped to my bougainvillea, My business cards printed at IKEA. Therapist says, “Just try manifesting,” But I’m stress-snacking through late-stage resting. But hey, I’ve got vision. And time. And forty-seven versions of the same damn cover letter. Hire me. Or don’t. I’ll still be out here, standing out Tried monetizing hobbies, failed with flair, Even applied to jobs that weren’t really there. That “interview” link sent me to a shed Now I bring pepper spray just to job hunt without ending up dead. Ghosted by HR, scammed by the rest It's a Craigslist jungle in a LinkedIn vest. Tried selling feet pics...too niche. Tried a food blog...ate the niche. Even launched a podcast: Just Me Crying, But shockingly, still not monetizing. Scrolled job boards, perks looked fine, Clicked “Apply,” next thing? True crime. Said “on-site interview”, what a twist I mapped my escape, with a self-defense list. I’m a suburban standout, burnout incarnate, CEO of Plan Z, unpaid and snark laced. Dodging scams in a LinkedIn vest, Where “hiring now” means “hope for the best.” But hey, I’ve got vision. And work ethic And a 9-millimeter in my tote just to check the job market. Hire me. Or don’t. But if your office is in a van with no windows and “competitive pay” is spray-painted on the side just know: I come strapped… with experience.

0/500