Date: April 22nd, 2013
Location: My Safe Place
Time: 7:06 pm
Sometimes I wish I were Jewish so that I could go around using phrases such as oy vey, ferblunjit, or meekskait.
Then again, I am an American and we Americans like nothing better than some good old-fashioned cultural integration.
So, I’m going to say it: Oy Vey!
I’ve been on the prowl for a job nigh on 8 months or so, and besides a brief stint at a bookstore, I’ve come up mostly empty-handed. This is 100% my fault. Now that I’ve finally come to terms with that, I’m conducting a full-scale re-launch of my professional appearance: from the resume, to the cover letters, to my LinkedIn profile. All of it must be scrapped and re-built from the ground-up.
But this is not why I say oy vey. In fact, thus far the experience has been cathartic and encouraging.
I’m finally focusing on the “Why am I special?” and honing in on my skills instead of feeling like a dime-a-dozen candidate.
And finding a toolkit that has inspired this change was a real boon. After all, resume and cover letter advice runs rampant on the web and while the advice does differ slightly, the whole of it is mostly the same – and really bland, and mostly totally unhelpful to me.
Despite this dawning, I can’t help but return to Google for advice on my LinkedIn profile. And this is when I say it:
Everyone seems to be the expert on how you should present yourself and nobody seems to agree (It’s like a dinner conversation with my family.) Opinions, opinions, opinions. Everybody’s got an opinion:
Make your summary more human, always use first-person.
Never use first-person, it makes you sound pretentious.
Absolutely use all 2,000 characters allotted to you so that you can hit more key words.
Keep your summary brief and memorable – 2 to 3 paragraphs.
Your LinkedIn profile should be an overview of your resume.
Your LinkedIn profile is where you tell your whole story; the resume highlights your accomplishments.
This is about where I start mumbling a string of mostly incoherent Yiddish and go curl up in the fetal position on my bed – the safety zone of the unemployed.
Ack. I’m such a nebbish.