SO YOU WANT TO GET HIRED IS NOW LIVE ON ITCHIO! :D
This thirty-page guide is specifically written to help you navigate the world of working-class jobs. In it, I break down what to put in your resume (even if you have no experience at all!), how to dress for the interview, how to play the very confusing and nonsensical world of the working-class interview, and what happens after you drag yourself out of the crucible of the interview on your hands and knees.
It's helpful! It's for those of us who want to know how to get hired for something as menial as a food runner! It's not that long, so you don't need to carve out several hours to in-depth research! It's got jokes — and Brian David Gilbert references!
Please reblog to help reach as many people as possible, because sometimes we all need a little help adulting, and I'm here to share what I know with you, no judgment.
(If you want to make sure I am not forced to be victim to website fees, you can always just send me $3 on Ca$h@pp/V3nm0 (deadtower) or P@yp@l (paypal.me/deadtower) and email me at
[email protected] with your username/when you sent the money, and I can send you the PDF that way! Also, if you can't afford it, no worries! Just shoot me an email and I'll send it to you discounted to as low as $1, or for free, depending on your financial situation. I want everyone to have access to the resources they deserve. <3)
2K notes
·
View notes
Honestly believe that Oswald would wake Ed up in the middle of the night just to ask him if he would still love him if he was a worm and it would take Ed every ounce of his willpower to not hit Oswald with a chair for waking him up
151 notes
·
View notes
Several times recently I've found myself making tea whilst listening to The Magnus Archives, and as a result I've developed a silly little headcanon...
I'm not sure if it's a nationwide thing, but certainly throughout my life I've experienced the weird stigma of having sugar in your tea. It's not direct or aggressive, but there always seems to be this vague notion that sweetening your tea makes you less strong, less manly. I rarely see men ask for sugar, and often observe an obvious proudness in teenage boys when they say "no sugar, thanks."
Picture Jonathan Sims, newly appointed archivist, worried he's not good enough, placed haphazardly in power of people who were very recently peers, and desperately trying to prove he's the right man for the job. Everything seems to be falling apart a bit, and he's not at all sure his assistants have any faith in him; he had to ask for a tape recorder because he couldn't get his laptop to work properly - that's embarrassing.
Now imagine Martin: office sweetheart, gets along with pretty much anyone, just moved to a new position working with two close friends, and the attractive guy from research is his boss (he's a bit rude and stuck up, but it's probably just the stress, right?). He's pretty comfortable! Aside from the occasional snide remark from Jon it is a good job, which is especially pleasing considering how he got to work at the institute in the first place.
Two opposing forces, as we all well know! But what's better at building bridges than a nice cup of tea? Martin makes a lot of tea, but I like to think he memorises how everyone takes theirs. Regardless, he has to ask at least once.
And so, kind, sweet, gentle Martin, his offer of a cup of tea promptly accepted, would have the misfortune of saying, "do you take that with sugar?" to an embarrassed, flustered Jon, who's trying desperately not to confront any romantic feelings he might have hidden away. The ensuing scoff and slightly too enthusiastic 'No! Thank you.' would be enough to remember that preference for a while.
As times go on, hundreds of cups of tea later, things get less tense between the pair, and Martin never has to revisit the question; but late one night, shortly before Jon is to leave for Great Yarmouth and Martin is to risk it all to take down Elias, Jon places a hand gently on Martin's shoulder and asks "Could I have a cup of tea?". Of course Martin says yes, it's the least he could do, but as he turns to go and make it, Jon calls out again. "With sugar, please."
Just a tiny vulnerability, but enough. By that point most of Jon's facade has been torn roughly away many times, but letting go of small points of pride often means more than non-deliberate actions. Having enough bravery to admit to liking something soft and sweet is harder than you'd think.
Maybe during those six months after, Martin would watch the sugar dissolve into his own tea with a painful melancholy, the sweetness a bitter memory.
885 notes
·
View notes