Birthday

It’s my birthday. Last year on my birthday I shared a little list of things I find to be true, and I thought it was worth resharing, with an extra one for the extra trip around the sun. 39 seems ancient when you’re a kid, but I’m finding it’s not really very old after all.

Ask me again next year though. Yikes.

Birthday wisdom:

Maybe it’s a very human thing to not feel the age you are. In any case, it’s true today. Here are some other truths I have learned; one for each year I’ve circled the sun. Like a lot of lessons, some I forget and need to learn again. Some are big, some are small, some are easy, some are hard, and if that’s not true of years as well as lessons, I don’t know what is.

1. No one has a clue what they are doing.
2. Introversion is not a weakness.
3. A book you enjoy reading is a good book, no matter the reviews.
4. There is no good reason for dyeing your hair black using packet colour.
5. Love who you love and love them hard because you don’t know when you’ll lose them.
6. Saying no is ok.
7. Saying yes is ok.
8. Not knowing is ok.
9. You can’t do everything.
10. People who don’t like pickles can’t be trusted.
11. Thoughts are not facts.
12. Not everyone will like you, you won’t like everyone, and that’s ok.
13. Always wear sunscreen.
14. Life is too short for ugly shoes.
15. People who feel like sunshine are rare so hold onto them.
16. There are some things you just can’t fix.
17. You don’t need that shot of tequila.
18. Asking for help is ok.
19. Trusting your gut is good but sometimes your gut has shit for brains.
20. Cheese is the glue that holds life together.
21. You can’t please everyone and you shouldn’t want to.
22. Some people can’t wear yellow. I’m some people.
23. A good cup of tea is its own reward.
24. Hard work doesn’t always equal success.
25. There are no rules for human emotion.
26. Don’t wax your eyebrows if you have been drinking wine.
27. Jurassic Park is a perfect movie.
28. Ignoring what you need gets you into trouble.
29. Literally no one is watching; they are all caught up in their own shit.
30. You can never have too many polka dot dresses.
31. Always sleep on big decisions.
32. You’ll always be a little bit sad about some things.
33. People’s behaviour says more about them than you.
34. Oxford commas are important.
35. Pizza > abs.
36. You can plan for every scenario and still be wrong.
37. The best people love you because you’re a dork, not even though you’re a dork. 38. Caffeine is not a substitute for sleep.
39. The sun rises, every damn day.

Happy birthday to me!

‘Til next time,

Done is better than perfect

A conversation at work this week reminded me of something I have been working on for some time – the idea that done is better than perfect. It seems simple enough, but I’m such a poster child for perfectionism that it can be a genuine struggle. Here’s the problem: when you want things to be just so it can be nigh on impossible to let things just be. And in a hectic, fast-paced world where deadlines are tight and the hustle is standard, chasing perfection can be a real problem. Sure, it feels productive to examine and re-examine, to think and re-think, to re-jig and tweak looking for perfection in every minute detail… The kicker, though? It ain’t. It’s procrastination at best, crippling at worst.

And I do it ALL. THE. TIME.

If you haven’t heard of her already, Brené Brown is a researcher on shame and vulnerability and her book The Gifts of Imperfection is a true life-changer. It’s one of those books that makes you go “get out of my brain!”. Of perfection, Brown says:

“Perfection is self destructive simply because there is no such thing as perfect. Perfection is an unattainable goal. Additionally, perfectionism is more about perception – we want to be perceived as perfect. Again, this is unattainable – there is no way to control perfection, regardless of how much time and energy we spend trying.”

Check out her Ted Talks, seriously.

So the difference, in getting things done over getting things perfect, is a kind of self-compassion.

This is a learning I am taking to creative pursuits in writing, blogging, art and more. That cheery little bubbly feeling when something is actually done? That’s a sense of accomplishment worth eleventy billion times more than the pressure of striving for perfection. How many things have I not started / not finished / not even considered simply because my inner critic said they would be less then perfect and therefore worthless? How much joy did I miss out on in not-doing?

Do the thing – it’s very often worth the risk.

(This post? Not perfect, but bloody D O N E, and that’s pretty fab).

‘Til next time,

Adulting 101: How to write a resume

Listen up: it’s time to get real. It’s an unfortunate truth that one of the perils of being an adult is, occasionally, having to actually be an adult. So. Let’s talk jobs. In my real life, as part of my real job, I see a lot of resumes.

A lot.

And I’ll let you in on a trade secret: heaps of them genuinely SUCK. You guys. Your resume is one of the most vital documents in your working life. Why aren’t you giving it some love? For a lot of jobs it’s the only introduction you will get and bad impressions (or worse: wrong impressions) matter.

job-hunt

On average, for each job I recruit for, I see a minimum of a hundred applications and I have to get through them quickly. Sometimes you hear that recruiters spend less than a minute on your resume (it’s true, for an initial scan at least) and I know that makes you question why you would spend time on it at all if that is the case. Here’s why: if you are looking for a job, you don’t want to piss off the gatekeeper of the jobs.

Don’t make me join the dots myself. Show me what I want to hear. Make it easy for me to see how you are a good fit for my job. Pro tip: the easier you make a recruiter’s life, the more they will like you.

Some things you may want to consider:

Ditch the cover page and the photo. Save the planet and get down to business. And if you really insist on a photo, choose one that is semi professional and not a selfie where you’ve obviously cropped out your bestie but your makeup is on point.

Bin the objective, unless you really, really have one. You’re applying for this job because you want this job, presumably.

so-why-do-you-want-this-job-meme

I don’t care what subjects you studied in school. At most, list where you went and what year you finished. If it was more than say five years ago, you could easily leave it off. By that stage, your experience should speak for itself.

List dates of employment not length of service. I want to know if the eight months you worked at Kmart was the last eight months or eight months ten years ago. I can do basic maths (mostly), just give me a point of reference for how recent your experience is. If you’ve got glaring gaps that you can explain (travelling, raising babies), tell me so.

Give me context. Don’t just list job titles, tell me about what you did in the role. An Admin Assistant in one company might be purely responsible for filing and copying. In another they might also do reception, data entry, minutes and diary management, banking and bookkeeping. If you just put “Admin Assistant”, it keeps me guessing and I hate guessing. Admin Assistant =/= Admin Assistant.

Format neatly. Anything that makes your resume easy on the eye so I can get a picture of who you are quickly, is going to help me. It doesn’t have to be a work of art, but things like consistent headings and dot points are helpful. I don’t want to see big chunks of text, weird fonts (I’m looking at you, Papyrus), jobs listed out of order, and so on.

Don’t waste your space. Ideally, you want your resume to be two to three pages. Don’t fill it with inspirational quotes to show how deep and motivated you are (“You miss 100% of the shots you never take” – Wayne Gretzky). Ain’t nobody got time for that. Focus on what is relevant and recent because that has the most bearing on where you go next. I’m going to pay most attention to your last couple of roles, give or take, depending on how long you’ve been in them. Remember your resume does not have to be an exhaustive chronicle of your entire life back to your 1998 after school job where you:

  • advised on menu items
  • took customer orders
  • handled cash
  • served food

Ugh, seriously stop. Why are you listing that? It’s 2016 and you’ve been working in IT project management for the last six years.

Customise it. Generally, one size does not fit all. When applying for a job, your resume’s sole purpose is to showcase what skills and experience you have in relation to the role you are applying for. So think about what the ad has asked for and how you can demonstrate right off the bat that you have the goods.

Proof read. Bad grammar and spelling errors bug me. And you know what? I’m heaps lazy, so help me out. If I decide I want to call you, don’t make me flip through three pages to find your phone number – put that shit up the front.

‘Til next time,

Sig

Things the SA Blackout Taught Me About the Upcoming Apocalypse

In case you missed it (where are you? is it warm? can I visit?), South Australia was hit by massive storms this week which, on Wednesday, saw the entire state without power. It basically looked something like this:

blackscreen

Kidding. From where I was sitting it actually looked like this:

pub

Now – I’m not one to be dramatic*, but sheltered in a pub, two wines in, it certainly seemed that amid the torrential rain, wide spread loss of power, and general ominous atmosphere there were certainly shades of the apocalypse about the place. There would be zombies before we knew it.

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Did a statewide blackout really signal the onset of the apocalypse? It did not. But it might have, right? Surely that will be Step One when old mate Armageddon rolls into town? So let us prepare. Here are some things that the blackout taught me about the impending end of days:

  1. I am woefully unprepared. Torch? No. Batteries? Negative. Important phone numbers? Yeah, in my dying phone. The news keeps telling people in affected areas to enact their flood plans. Is that something I am supposed to have? I don’t. I don’t even have a waterproof jacket.
  2. What I do have, though, is about 1,000 Ikea tealights, which were finally, finally useful.
  3. Reading by candlelight hurts your eyes.
  4. The whole thing was dead boring. What was left to do? Go to bed? I am going to be so well rested in our post-apocalyptic future if there is nothing to do come 8pm.
  5. There is a facility to mark yourself ‘safe’ from flooding on facebook. As far as I can tell marking yourself ‘unsafe’ does not signal for help.

 

In a nutshell: pack a brolly, enact your flood plans.

Stay safe,

Sig

*Okay, fine. Yes, I am.