to whom it may concern

For someone so clearly obsessed with writing about herself, you'd think I'd be a whiz at writing cover letters. You'd also be very, very wrong. The reason I'm a temp extraordinaire is largely due to my fear of and inability to compose cover letters. I have major issues with insincerity and, well, I am astute enough to know that what I'd really like to say in a cover letter is probably not going to get me any 401K/health/dental plans. Let's see though, just in case:

I am writing to express my interest in blahdy blah vaguely related to magazine and/or online publishing position posted on Craigsbistro. In May of 2003, I received a bachelor's degree in psychology from Columbia University. Since graduation, I have worked at a string of unfulfilling office assistant jobs in almost every conceivable realm of Corporate America. I feel that my education, administrative expertise, and sudden realization that I want to work in an industry in which I have absolutely no experience would make me an asset to your publication.

At Columbia, I devoted a large amount of my time to the crew team. I had never been much of an athlete, you see, and discovering that I didn't entirely suck at the sport coupled with the thigh cellulite-banishing benefits of rowing compelled me to spend five hours a day, six days a week, nine months a year exercising my ass off, literally. The girls and the boys (ooooh the boys) on the team also taught me how to interact with peers without blushing profusely, and so I spent the balance of my time interacting with them at such establishments as The Heights Bar and Grill, 1020 Bar, and The West End, which you may know as the historic watering hole of such literary luminaries as Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg. Sometimes, I even made it to class. I majored in psychology because a few of the courses were interesting enough to keep me awake for the full hour and fifteen minutes, and the typical three multiple choice exams per semester workload didn't interfere too greatly with the aforementioned activities.

Because my parents were screwed over by Columbia's financial aid policies, I also held part-time jobs, sometimes two at once, throughout my junior and senior years. My extreme overextension coupled with a raging case of chronic insomnia made it difficult to think about, much less decide, what I wanted to do after college. Somehow though, I procured employment sufficient to support my delightful but expensive lifestyle. After two years of administrative work, I have become proficient in filing, calendaring, expensing, scheduling, spreadsheeting, PowerPointing, and stapling, and I've decided that I will soon go batshit insane if I don't get a job that I care about, even a teeny weeny little bit.

I love writing and correcting people's grammar and reading blogs and magazines every hour of the day in which I am not drunk and/or asleep, so please please hire me for the love of Jesus and All That Is Holy. I can staple with incredible speed and accuracy such that the staple covers no part of the first word in the upper left-hand corner. Thank you for your consideration.

Sincerely,
Via Gina

Yep, I'm screwed.