Every Medical Show, Episode Eighteen: Wine Mixer

In Which the Doctors Get Left Out of the Cool Club

Every now and then Average City Hospital likes to reward its mediocre workers with special events in order to keep everyone semi-excited to wake up and go to work. Of course, these fancy-schmancy events are only for the very important—no small potatoes allowed….

*Bagel Boy, Average City Hospital’s food delivery guy, stands at the entrance to the break room, clipboard in hand, checking off names as people enter the elegantly-decorated room.*

Photo Credit: Pixabay.com

Bagel Boy: Name?

*Nurse Sexy Hair flips her perfect hair out of her face and flashes her staff badge. Bagel Boy waves her inside. Hungry Nurse shows his badge and Bagel Boy him inside*

*Hungry Nurse salivating* Hungry Nurse: Is there food in there?

Bagel Boy: I think there’s hors d’oeuvres or something with the wine. There’s no bagels, like there should be. How could they think to leave out those perfect, delicious—

*Hungry Nurse runs inside the room, knocking over a waiter in order to grab a tray of hors d’oeuvres.*

Meanwhile, across the room…..

Gossipy Nurse: Wow! This party this awesome! Look at the tiny shrimpy—whatever you call them—they look so good! 

Apathetic Nurse: Better get one before Hungry Nurse eats them all. What a pig, he acts like a starving---

Gossipy Nurse: Pig?

Apathetic Nurse: Exactly. *Takes a sip of her wine.*

Gossipy Nurse: Speaking of pigs—how’s it going with Panicked Intern? I heard that last week he peed himself when he was working in the morgue.

Apathetic Nurse: *rolls her eyes* That’s not what happened. He told me—

Gossipy Nurse: AH HA! I knew it. I knew you two were dating. I’m telling everyone--

Apathetic Nurse: Whatever, see if I care.

Meanwhile…..

Bagel Boy: Absolutely not! You cannot enter Dr. Handsome Face, this is a closed party for only certain guests.

Dr. Handsome Face: But I’m a doctor! And I’m so handsome, they need me at this party. What will people look at, the cheese sculpture?

Dr. Cheesehead: *Eyes bugging out* CHEESE! There’s a cheese sculpture at this party? I must get in, there’s cheese, I need it!

*Dr. Cheesehead and Dr. Handsome Face try to push through the door.*

Bagel Boy: Keep back riffraff!

Dr. Ponytail: Whoah there bagel kid, no need for the yelling, it’s a party, come on, relax. *Dr. 

Ponytail tries to sneak past Bagel Boy into the party.*

Bagel Boy: NO! Stop him! Help me, we’re being overrun by these peasants! Help!

*Hard-Ass Head Nurse blocks the door, the doctors are forced to stop.*

Hard-Ass Head Nurse: Bagel Boy, stand aside, let these fine doctors in. In fact, I’ll bring them in myself as personal guests. *She smiles.*

*The doctors smile and follow Hard-Ass Head Nurse into the party. She hands them all glasses of wine and brings them out onto the small balcony at the back of the party room.*

Dr. Handsome Face: Thanks! *Takes a sip of the wine.* This is….okay.

Dr. Ponytail: A party’s a party—how could people deny someone the wonderment of such a festive atmosphere? *Dr. Ponytail guzzles down the wine.*

Dr. Cheesehead: *Holds up the wine glass* You have any cheese to go with this?

Hard-Ass Head Nurse: Enjoy the party. *She smiles at them and closes the door to the balcony, locking the three doctors outside.*

Dr. Handsome Face: Hey—wait. *He pulls at the door but it doesn’t open.* Let us back in! It’s gonna rain soon, my hair--

Dr. Ponytail: No! I need to party! *Bangs on the door.* Let us in!

Dr. Cheesehead: You gave me wine without cheese! Barbarians! Noooo!

 

Photo Credit: Public Domain

Every Medical Show: Episode Seventeen: Grand Gestures

In which the staff of Average City Hospital gets Rickrolled.

Ever since Panicked Intern and Apathetic Nurse shared an illicit kiss during a game of Truth of Dare several months ago, the pair had been involved in what a casual observer would call a relationship. Apathetic Nurse however was not ready to call her secretive fling with Panicked Intern anything more than a ‘not so terrible way to pass the time when I’m bored’ (her words, not mine). But Panicked Intern wanted to take their “relationship” to the next level….

Panicked Intern: *Rubbing his eyes sleepily.* Uh, hey sweetie. *Leans towards Apathetic Nurse for a kiss.*

Apathetic Nurse: What did I tell you about kissing me in public?

Panicked Intern: *Hangs his head.* To not to. Sorry. Uh, I—I forgot. I just wanted to say….to say. *Hands shaking.* Thatyoulookbeautifultoday.

Apathetic Nurse: Thanks.

Panicked Intern: You’re welcome! I—I’m so-ssss-so glad that---

Apathetic Nurse: Calm down. You’re gonna pass out again if you keep talking so much.

Panicked Intern: You—you’re right. Always looking out for me, you’re so kind Apathetic Nurse, that’s why---

Dr. Handsome Face: Apathetic Nurse! We need you in the OR stat! *Rolling up his sleeves.* Get down there, what are you waiting for nurse?

Apathetic Nurse: Okay.

Dr. Handsome Face: Hurry up nurse! *Runs off.*

Apathetic Nurse: I have a name. *Sighs loudly and gets up from her chair to follow.*

*Panicked Intern is left alone in the empty patient’s room.*

Panicked Intern: She didn’t even say goodbye. Do I even mean anything to her, or am I just an ordinary guy with insomnia and a lot of allergies? I need to talk to my therapist. Or take a nap. *Sniffles.*

*Cute Quirky Intern pops out from behind a curtain with a big smile on her face.*

Cute Quirky Intern: You need a grand romantic gesture!

Panicked Intern: *Wiping away tears.* What?

Cute Quirky Intern: You need to show her how you feel, show her that you’ll do anything for her.

Panicked Intern: Grand romantic gestures…that sounds kind of….terrifying. I don’t know, maybe I just need a nap.

Cute Quirky Intern: But you love Apathetic Nurse?

Panicked Intern: *Looking panicked.* Uh, who said I was talking about Apathetic Nurse? I never said that. *Mumbling to himself.* She’ll kill me if other people know about us.*

Cute Quirky Intern: Really? Everyone knows you guys are together.

Panicked Intern: Oh—oh no. She’s going to be so--so mad at me—

Cute Quirky Intern: So now there’s no reason to not do something big and, and, romantic!

Panicked Intern: Well, if that’s true….you really think she’ll like it?

Cute Quirky Intern: Of course she will, who can resist a public display of extreme devotion?

Panicked Intern: Since you put it that—that way…

*Meanwhile in the Operating Room, Dr. Handsome Face, Apathetic Nurse and another surgeon and nurse are working on a patient. They are so focused on their work that they don’t notice Panicked Intern sneak up to the observation window. He holds a stereo up to the window and music starts playing over the speakers into the operating room.*

Dr. Handsome Face: Do you hear that? Is that--

*Apathetic Nurse notices Panicked Intern standing at the window. He waves at her and she looks away.*

Apathetic Nurse: I don’t hear anything.

*The music gets louder. The staff in the operating room recognize the tune of Rick Astley’s “Never Gonne Give You Up”*

Panicked Intern: *Singing through the glass.* You know the rules, and so do I—

Apathetic Nurse: *Muttering.* Clearly you don’t know the rules—

Panicked Intern: Your heart’s been aching, but you’re too shy to say it. And if you ask me how I’m feeling---

Apathetic Nurse: I never asked.

Panicked Intern: Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down! Never gonna run around and, desert you!

*Everyone in the operating room starts to dance along to the music except for Apathetic Nurse who looks embarrassed.*

Panicked Intern: Never gonna make you cry, never gonna saaaay goodbye! Never gonna tell a lie and, hurt youuuu!

Apathetic Nurse: I’m not—

*Panicked Intern stops singing but the song keeps playing.*

Panicked Intern: I—I know that I’m kind of a mess—

Apathetic Nurse: *Folds her arms* Kind of?

Panicked Intern: And I’m easily startled—

Apathetic Nurse: You mean terrified.

Panicked Intern: I’m confused by everything in my life—my job, my weird nightmares—but I’m not confused about how I feel about you.

*Everyone in the Operating Room lets out a collective ‘awwww’ the monitor on the patient starts beeping but no one notices.

Panicked Intern: I wanted to say that, I’m never gonna 

give you up, or desert you. So—uh—uh, yea.

Apathetic Nurse: The patient is flatlining.

Dr. Handsome Face: But what about Panicked Intern? 

What about the romance?

Apathetic Nurse: *Looks nervous* Let me get back to you on that.

Awkward Moments, Or A Personal Reflection On A Common Problem

Hi, nice to meet you.

*Handshake*

So, um, do you like….um….How’s work?

*Internal panicking*

It’s good. What do you do?

*More internal panicking*

*Nervous laugh* Yea, I love coffee.

What?

I mean, work is great.

Oh. Alright then.

*Sweating profusely*

Uh, so it was good talking to you then. Thanks.

Yes, see you around.

Okay, bye. I love you.

Wait, did you just say ‘I love you?’

No.

*Jumps off a cliff to escape profound embarrassment*

If awkward moments looked like inspirational quotes...

Ahh. Awkward moments. We all have them, some of us more than others. Some of us a lot more than others. Perhaps I experience a lot of these moments, those tense feelings that arise whenever I have to interact with another human being. Even when you know someone, and have known them for a long time, there’s still room for a social blunder: a poor choice of words, the untimely stomach rumble, a too-long silence, accidental physical contact, a fundamental misunderstanding, or a diverging opinion that turns into a heated argument. They can all happen at any time, in any place.

When I was a kid I remember seeing a lot of those “Precious

Moments” keepsakes at the Hallmark store—they were cute figurines of adorable, big-eyed characters, often accompanied by a heart-warming sentiment. We all strive to find those sweet moments of happiness, the precious moments that fill you with hope and joy and make you excited to be alive. Unfortunately, it seems like the precious moments are few and far between. Sandwiched between are the awkward moments that make you cringe with embarrassment. At best it’s mild feeling of discomfort, and at worst it’s a physically painful sensation that leaves you wishing that a cartoon anvil would fall on your head to get you out of this jam.

Sometimes I experience what I call retroactive embarrassment, where something I said earlier in conversation seemed perfectly acceptable but when I go over the situation later I question it and I conclude that the innocuous thing I said is indeed stupid.

Then there’s the flashback embarrassment. Something embarrassing you said or did years ago comes to mind in stunning clarity. It usually happens when you’re struggling to fall asleep, and suddenly, you’re reliving that awkward moment and you burn with embarrassment all over again. It’s your brain opening up the photo album of your life and pointing at that picture saying, ‘look how dumb you look.’ Fun times.

But maybe awkward moments and embarrassment are just nature’s way of keeping you humble. Because if you thought everything you did and said was cool and brilliant, then maybe everyone’s egos would get in the way of cooperation and connection. If you thought you were the coolest, smartest, best all-around kid in school they’d be no reason to listen to someone else’s opinion or ideas. So maybe, just maybe, that twinge of social terror isn’t all bad. It’s just awkward. 

Every Medical Show, Episode Sixteen: Health Inspection

In which Average City Hospital lives up to its reputation

It’s been a long time since we last visited Average City Hospital, but that doesn’t mean the halfway competent staff aren’t ready to give their most average performance for a visiting health inspector….

Dr. Handsome Face: We take pride in our staff and their work here Ms. Snobby Health Inspector. I think you’ll find all are prepared for any test you throw at us.

*Dr. Handsome Face swishes his hair.*

Dr. Handsome Face: Did I also mention that we’re all very good looking? Or most of us anyways. *He looks sideways at Hungry Nurse.*

*Hungry Nurse crunches loudly into an apple as he stares at the health inspectors. Apple juice drips down his chin.*

Snobby Health Inspector: I do not throw tests Dr. Handsome Face. I am here as an official health inspector to thoroughly examine your records and observe your everyday practices. I expect full access to everything in this hospital. 

Hungry Nurse: Does that include the refrigerators?

*Snobby Health Inspector looks down her nose at Hungry Nurse. She clicks her pen loudly and writes something down on her clipboard.*

Snobby Health Inspector: Begin the tour.

*Dr. Handsome Face and Hungry Nurse lead Snobby Health Inspector into the room outside the operating room. The three of them watch Evil British Doctor try to guide Cute Quirky Intern through a procedure.*

Evil British Doctor: At the rate you are moving the anesthesia will wear off and the patient will awaken.

Cute Quirky Intern: I’m trying Evil British Doctor, but it’s the first time I’m assisting in a surgery, I’m so excited! I’ll move a little faster.

Evil British Doctor: No, work more slowly. I insist.

Cute Quirky Intern: Oh…okay then. You’re really nice Evil British Doctor, all the other doctors just yell at me to move faster. You’re not as mean as they say you are.

Evil British Doctor: You are right. I am much meaner. Now slow down on this patient.

*Snobby Health Inspector gasps and writes something down on her clipboard.*

Snobby Health Inspector: Encouraging interns to purposely fumble procedures, flouting OR safety protocols…these are serious hazards. What is this doctor’s name?

*Dr. Handsome Face shrugs. Hungry Nurse takes another loud bite of his apple.*

Snobby Health Inspector: *mumbling as she continues to write* Eating in the OR prep room…Now I want to inspect one of the patient rooms.

*Dr. Handsome Face and Hungry Nurse bring Snobby Health Inspector to a room where Dr. Cheesehead is speaking to a patient.*

Dr. Cheeshead: So then I told the man, ‘sir, Munster cheese is best served with a good beer, not a heavy Shiraz wine—get rid of this!’ Can you believe that? Crazy. Shiraz with Munster cheese, I might as well eat cheese from a package.

 Patient: Uh, Dr. Cheesehead, am I free to go?

Dr. Cheesehead: Huh? Oh yea, I signed the discharge papers hours ago.

Patient: What! You mean I can go home? Why am I still here?

Dr. Cheesehead: You asked me about cheese.

Patient: I had a question about fees!

Dr. Cheesehead: Oh. Well, cheese is better. I just like talking about cheese.

*Snobby Health Inspector shakes her head and writes something down on her clipboard. Dr. Handsome Face and Hungry Nurse lead her down the hallway to a supply closet.*

Dr. Handsome Face: You should take a look at the supply closet, it’s full of…. *He exchanges a look with Hungry Nurse* …supplies.

Hungry Nurse: *Nodding* Yea, supplies.

Snobby Health Inspector: I know what a supply closet is.

*Dr. Handsome Face opens the door and he and Hungry Nurse push Snobby Health Inspector inside and lock her in. Snobby Health Inspector rattles the doorknob.*

Snobby Health Inspector: Hello? Did you just lock me in? Excuse me! *Banging on the door* I need to finish my report! Open this door!

*A noise in the corner of the closet startles Snobby Health Inspector. She sees Apathetic Nurse and Panicked Intern kissing beside the toilet paper.*

Apathetic Nurse: *Speaking to Snobby Health Inspector* Do you mind? We’re trying to have a romantic moment here.

Panicked Intern: Ye-ye-yea. Uh, that—that door isn’t locked is it?

Snobby Health Inspector: I demand you two stop this immediately. This room is not meant for your personal activities.

Apathetic Nurse: *Sarcastically* Oh no, I’m so scared. Don’t tell anyone.

Panicked Intern: Um, I-I-I am actually scared here. Are we really locked in?

Snobby Health Inspector: Oh this is all going in my report. 

In Defense of Zombies, Or, Why The Job Hunt Is Pretty Tough

Sometimes I wish this whole zombie apocalypse thing everyone keeps worrying about would just happen so that I can stop stressing about finding a job. 

A spooky house where zombies lurk! 

I mean, the constant threat of being ripped apart by undead monsters sounds pretty horrible, but then I think, is it really that much worse than writing another cover letter? Cover letters are the worst. How many ways more ways can I say, ‘I’m qualified to to do stuff, please hire me now so I can finally feel like a successful human.’ 

When you put it in perspective, zombies are really not that terrible, sure, they’re a threat to humanity, and civilization as we know it, but on the bright side, think about all the things you wouldn’t need to worry about anymore. No more school. No more work. You don’t have to read your emails. You don’t have to pay taxes. You don’t have to pay bills. You never have to complain about working out again because your whole life will be a workout. 

Those are just a few of the great things we can look forward to when the big zombie outbreak happens. You can stop worrying about computer repairs or whether you’ll get to work on time. And you never have to fill out another long, horrible application form ever again---or any form for that matter. 

It’s a form-free world, enjoy it. 

Ambition: A Short Story (Part III)

Last week, we heard Eva's perspective and learned that her newest client was none other than Eva's mother, Jessica. Eva stormed out, leaving her poor assistant Danielle alone with Jessica....

I stared at the elevator doors, wondering what I should do next. Should I finish the presentation with Jessica Collins? Was I supposed to follow Eva? Did she want me to follow? I had a sinking feeling that Eva would fire me if I bothered her right now. She’d definitely fire me if we lost this event with Jessica’s company.

“Danielle, is it?” Jessica Collins came up behind me. Her voice was soft, but I had the strong suspicion that this was a woman who didn’t need to raise her voice for people to listen. “My daughter can be very passionate.”

“Yea.” That’s one word for it. “I should go.”

“If you think that’s best.” Jessica Collins handed me a white card, “My information. Eva is fickle with assistants. You may be out of a job soon. You should work for me.”

“What?” I took the card, my heart pounding over the thought of losing my position. “I don’t think I can----“

“Work for me. Even if you go back to Eva. You can be here part-time, you’ll make good money. I’m sure you need it.” Jessica looked me up and down with a critical eye.

I felt my cheeks get warm at the underhanded comment. “I appreciate this Ms. Collins, but---you would want me to work here even if I’m still Eva’s assistant?”

“I don’t have the time I thought I would, to fix things.” Her controlled smile fell. “I want to stay close to my daughter in any way I can.”

“Oh.” I turned the business card over. “I’ll think about it.” I’d been so desperate for work after college, I had never imagined turning down an offer.

“You can’t say no to a dying woman.” Jessica Collins smiled. “When can you start?”

Ambition: A Short Story (Part II)

Continued from Part I....Last week, we were introduced to Danielle, a young woman working for a demanding boss, Eva. In part II, we hear Eva's perspective....

We wasted nearly ten minutes getting through building security. Danielle of course wasted even more time getting the elevator door to work.

“First time pushing a button?” I snapped. Danielle’s slowness wasn’t helping my nerves.

“I’m trying Eva.” Danielle complained as the doors finally slid open. The quiet in the elevator bothered me, my mind going back to the last time I had seen Ms. Jessica Collins. It’d been my birthday. She brought me a present and I tried not to cry. I played with the clasp on my bag, letting it open and snap shut. The sharp sound kept me focused. There was nothing Jessica Collins could criticize about the presentation, and anything she found fault with I could pin on Danielle. That’s what assistants are for. I had disliked Danielle as soon as she walked into my office. The girl was a fresh graduate, a too-cheerful face and bouncing walk betraying her enthusiasm and naiveté. Her resume was good though, too good. Her portfolio even better. But Danielle wasn’t right for this industry. Planning exclusive events in this city took boldness that this girl, with daisies embroidered into her blouse, couldn’t stomach. So I hired her on the spot. She’d do the work, I’d get the recognition.

Image Source

The elevator opened directly into the office. Glass walls and metal sculptures gave the space a stark, modern look. The minimal surroundings only heightened Jessica’s presence. She rose to greet us, her form-fitting white dress made her look like one of the sculptures. 

Danielle stuck out her hand. “Jessica Collins? Hi, I’m Danielle. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Jessica raised a single, elegant eyebrow. The wrinkles around her eyes made her look distinguished. “Only good things, I hope?”

“Oh yes, of course. You were a financial analyst that helped transform three different businesses into Fortune 500 companies. Now you’re an executive here at-----“

“Congratulations, you googled her.” I glared at Danielle. She shut up. Jessica said nothing, though I could feel her watching the interaction closely. I took a deep breath and spoke directly to her. “Jessica.” I shook her hand lightly, not wanting to linger. “Let’s talk about the event. I have some samples to show you----“

“You skin looks clear Eva. What are you using now?” Jessica interrupted. I blinked and tried not to think too deeply into the backhanded compliment. Jessica motioned for us to sit in the chairs across from her desk.

Danielle pulled out the portfolio. “So, this is a party for the CEO of your company, right Ms. Collins? And we---Eva---was thinking about incorporating some photographs of him into the design for the event. Here’s an example---“

“You must be doing well at the company?” Jessica asked. “The party you planned at Riverfront was spectacular, I heard.” Her voiced dripped with sarcasm when she said spectacular. As if she ever thought I could create something that warranted the term.

 

“It was.” I was determined not to play her game. I kept my eyes on Jessica’s nails. Clear polish, the edges trimmed into a perfectly oval.

“You’re up for a promotion I understand.”

“How did you hear about that?” I asked. What a stupid question. Of course she knew.

Jessica pretended to look at the samples in the portfolio. “Just because you refuse to speak to me doesn’t mean that I’m not informed about your life. Why do you think I requested you for this event?”

“I got that job on my own, mother. I don’t owe you anything. Not anymore.” I hated that my voice cracked. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Danielle looking between Jessica and myself. I hadn’t told her Jessica was my mother.

“You’re getting very excited Eva.” Jessica—I refused to call her mother anymore, said calmly. That calm voice drove me crazy. “Your assistant wants to continue the presentation.”

“Forget the presentation. Why did you call me down here? You wanted to remind me of all the ways I’ve wasted my talent, my beauty? You want to tell me again how much of a drag it was to raise your own daughter?” I was shouting now. My careful self-control lost. It was always the same with her. I got my purse and went to the elevator.

“Eva. You’re being unreasonable right now----“

“Don’t pretend you care about my career mother.” I said tearfully as the elevator opened and I stepped inside. I let the door shut on Danielle’s face and collapsed against the wall, tears already ruining my mascara. 

To be continued.....

Ambition: A Short Story (Part I)

Image Source

“I asked for an iced caramel latte. This is just latte!” Eva threw the drink against the pavement, splattering coffee everywhere. I sighed deeply and threw the discarded cup into a nearby trashcan. Spots of coffee stained my dress. It wasn't the greatest dress, but my boss, Eva, had the fewest complaints about this one.

“You want me to get another one?” I asked patiently. “I’ll make sure they put the caramel in.” Eva had been in a mood all day; I was used to her high-handed comments by now, but something was different about today.

“Don’t bother.” Eva snapped. She adjusted her white leather purse, making sure the designer label faced outward. “Move faster with the coffee next time Danielle, or I may reconsider your position. We’re late for our meeting with the client.” Eva snapped her fingers and I trotted after her. Eva quickened her pace and I hurried to catch up, how she managed to walk that fast in heels was inhuman. We finally stopped at a sleek building in the middle of downtown, a sign beside the glass-front doors told us to check in before heading upstairs.

“Door.” Eva paused, waiting impatiently for me to open the door. I expected this job to be hard; I anticipated the long hours, the frantic energy of an event, the drudgery of administrative work. But I wasn’t ready for the humiliation, the feeling that someone held my career in their hand. That’s what work felt like. Or maybe that was just what it felt like to work for Eva. I finally got the door open and Eva waltzed in, approaching the front desk as if she were the queen demanding her entourage. 

To be continued.....

Fifteen

I was listening to that very old Taylor Swift song, Fifteen (released 2009) on Youtube today, don’t know why, don’t ask. 

She's just too cool for school, isn't she?
Image copyrighted by T. Swivel, please don't sue me Taylor.

Anyways, someone in the comments said that being fifteen is nothing like the song, it’s mostly school problems. I have to agree, most heartily. It got me thinking, what if songs actually sang about the real problems people faced, instead of heartbreak, romance, and wistful romantic longing? If there was a Fifteen soundtrack that was more realistic, it’d look something like this:

Fifteen Album featuring the hit singles “Geometry” and “Drive Me to the Mall, Please”

Learner’s License

This School Stinks

I Can’t Open my Locker

Geometry

Sexy Sex Ed (How to Spell Sex)

Why does School Start So Early

Drive Me to the Mall, Please

Extracurricular, Extra Problems

School Peas

Pop Quiz

Stop Laughing at Me (No, You’re Stupid)

Bus Smell

Check before you Cheat

Calculate the Radius

Mom Can I Have Some Money?

I Can’t Open my Locker, after-school remix

And then about ten years later, I'd release an anniversary album called Career, detailing the fun of finding a job as an adult:

Courtesy of the paint application on my computer

Career Album featuring hit singles “My Resume” and “Kill the Cover Letter”

Hunting for Jobs

My Resume

Format that s*** (explicit)

Who’s the Hiring Manager?

Application Boxes be too Small

Linkedin, Linkedout

Kill the Cover Letter

Rejection Hurts in the Brain

Relevant Experience

Unemployment Blues

To Whom It May Concern

Part-time Pain

Where’s my Writing Sample?

Kill the Cover Letter, professional remix

Interview (Stress to Impress)

Th edgy realism in my songs would blow everyone away and my songs' artistry and relevant social commentary would keep the world talking. I'd dominate the music charts and usher in a new age of music that speaks to the mundane realities of listeners. But for now, I'll get back to work. And here's that Taylor Swift song, Fifteen, all jokes aside, it's a good song.