Quiet Desperation — Will Sell fries for Money

The graduate with a science degree asks: “Why does it work?”
The graduate with an engineering degree asks: “How does it work?”
The graduate with accounting degree asks: “How much will it cost?”
The graduate with an arts degree asks: “Do you want fries with that?”

I stumbled upon this joke today. It made me laugh, and then it made me cry.

Why?

Because it is so true… and so painful. Because I happen to be a graduate with an Arts degree. Spent 5 years of my life in the worst place in the world -Art school- to get that degree and it is basically worthless.

First let me tell you a bit about Art school. If you think about going there… don’t. Just don’t.
It’s not that you won’t learn anything there… You most certainly do.

I learned almost all Art students are complacent, arrogant, ignorant hippies with rich parents…
I learned I severely dislike people like that.
I learned I spent 50.000 euro on an education I could also have gotten in any bar for the price of 3 beers
I learned that those who can’t do, teach an Art Class.
I learned that being hated by literally everyone in school is not a hard feat to accomplish

I probably learned more than that… But these are the lessons that will stay with me for the rest of my life.

Do I regret going to Art school? Not really, because I think regret is a giant waste of valuable time… And if I could do it over, I’d probably end up in Art school again. But if someone asks my opinion, Art school is a giant waste of money, I don’t think it’s taught me all that much about my profession, nor did it help me improve my career, so it isn’t really a good investment either…

Basically, it made me a really good drinker.

But that doesn’t look good on a résumé, nor does ‘Graduated from Art School’ I recently discovered.

I swear to god… people take one glance at your résumé and decide you are a no good bum out to rob and burn their place down. I could understand this if I’d a degree in Dramatic Arts or looked like a hipster (those two remarkably often coincide)… But I’m not and I don’t. I am a respectable Filmmaker who produced, directed and wrote (not in that order) her own film.

Someone you’d love to give any job to…

Well, apparently not.

Since there are few jobs at the moment in the film industry here, (at least ones that actually pay money) I decided it would be smart to get a job outside of the film industry… I’m planning on moving to London in a few months, so I could use some money.

But it turns out, people would sooner hire a trans-sexual alien from the planet Zorg than a hardworking, good-looking, full-time awesome person such as myself (who just so happens to have a degree in the Arts…) So far, I’ve had more than 40 rejections because “I didn’t fit the profile…”, been laughed at by 2 intermediaries from an employment agency, and been humiliated beyond reason more times than I can count.

I swear to god, this one time I responded to someone asking for full-time help in a clothing store. Nothing special or anything, in fact it is an outlet store selling stuff that is either broken or old for a fraction of the price. The manager of the store invited me over for an interview… and as it turned out, she only asked me over because she just loved my letter. She thought I was so funny and well-written (I admit… it was one fine letter) but I wasn’t really qualified for the job.

Which is fine, except she knew this beforehand… Come on, I sent you my résumé with my letter. Basically, I spent 30 minutes talking about how great I would be for this job… when she informed me she thought I was a wonderful person but that every other applicant was more qualified than me. I was so flabbergasted I didn’t even tell her to go fuck herself with her qualifications. Any fucking moron can sell jeans. Especially in an outlet store where only people who are allergic to style buy their reject outfits. My dog could sell pants there. I am not even kidding; if I put my dog in a pair of jeans, people would buy them because he looks so damn cute in ‘em.
So now I am just scraping at the bottom of the job pool, hoping someone will see my potential. I will do almost anything for money. I have very little self-respect and I don’t care about other people’s opinion. I am the perfect employee… but apparently I am overqualified to sell fries; too old to sell popcorn at the amusement park, too smart to work on a farm, too inexperienced to work in an office, too much myself to fit any bloody profile…

I am almost ready to pack it all in, and move to London without any money. It’ll be an adventure… and I’m quite sure they won’t look down upon a blonde with an Arts degree who speaks 4 languages and has a IQ of over 160 points and is willing to sell fries for money.

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