I've been job-hunting lately, or more accurately, I've been waiting for a job to hunt me -- preferably something that's short on hours, long on the do-re-mi. And what do you know -- a position opened up just this week. From what I can tell, it's a match made in heaven. Thank god for Linked-in.
Yes, it's Pope. And don't even think about it; I got there first.
It's a part time job with benefits -- Medical, meals, housing, company car (I'm praying for a Subaru). No dental, but perhaps that's just as well. As they say, if you want to see a fresco, go to Rome; if you want to see a dentist, go to La Canada.
The position has a strict dress code, caftans and bathrobes, mainly. But as someone who has spent the better part of two years working from home, you'll hear no complaints from this quarter.
As for character, I think I have what they're looking for. I'm perky, chatty, and can forgive almost anything at the drop of a mitre. My choral work can bring tears to your eyes. I welcome, even indulge in, philosophical debates, like, How many angels dancing on the head of a pin does it take to screw in a light bulb. Kind of makes you think, doesn't it?
But now we come to the elefante in the stanza. The potential deal breaker that will take some pretty fancy footwork on the cover letter that accompanies my job application. No, it's not the Latin thing. The way I see it, a well-placed Etcetera can cover a multitude of sins. And it's not the Bible thing, I've seen the movie.
But, I fear, as with any job, it's all in who you know. I checked Facebook and in four years, I've friended not a single bishop. I haven't even liked them. So I'm spending the entire evening rushing to their pages, pasting "Oh man, are you wise or what?" "From your lips to god's ear," and "Move over Deepak Chopra" on their timelines.
I expect I'll be put through the wringer -- three interviews, at least. If you want to see how I'm doing, no need to follow me on Twitter. Just keep an eye on my chimney.