Red in the Face

Yet another chapter in my ongoing saga with The C* of P*...

I sent an email to the contact person at the C* to confirm that she'd received my application. It was obvious that I hadn't gotten the job (I applied a month ago) but, as always, I felt like I was owed some form of acknowledgement. I got a reply within an hour, and here's what it said:

Hi Michael:

Yes, I did receive your materials. We have made a hire for that position. Thank you for your interest.

By the way -- the attachments you sent me included a cover letter addressed to a Mr. D* C* at the L* C* T*. Just letting you know that you might want to doublecheck your documents before emailing them to employers as you continue your job search.

Best of luck.

I was so ashamed of myself that I almost deleted the email the moment I was finished reading it. In fact, even as I'm writing this, I'm trying not to look up.

In one fell swoop, this woman drained every ounce of my self-righteousness. As a matter of personal character, maybe this was beneficial. But my self-righteousness has been the foundation (albeit a shaky one) of my emotional stability as I claw my way toward a career. An hour ago, I was a valiant warrior fighting for the principles of fairness and professionalism against a corporate enemy that was cold and cruel and ambivalent. Now, I'm just another soulless resume monger, whoring his shiny ivory tower diploma and flabby cover letter prose all over town.

For a moment, I considered sticking it to the Man (in this case, the Woman). I mentally drafted this reply:

Thanks for getting back to me, and please forgive my faux pas. I'll be sure to be triply dilligent in checking my materials from now on.

By the way, I must say that it makes for a rather disheartening experience when the only substantive response I've received from any job I've applied to in the past month has been your message pointing out the error in my application. To think, had my application been flawless I might never had heard from you.

I know it doesn't really say anything, but the point was to sound like a prick. I didn't send it.

The nagging question that's left in the aftermath of this absurdity is: how many other applications have I screwed up? I won't kid myself by thinking that every employer who's ignored me has done so because I incorrectly addressed the cover letter. It's just one more thing to be paranoid about.

The kicker is that I didn't really care about this job all that much anyway. The kicker to the kicker is that I never even applied to the Litchfield County job.