"repetitive motion(strain) injury"

It was thanks to an RSI that I got my first full-time job in the 'real world'.

It was December, and I was finishing up yet another temp position in the Labour Relations department of a local car plant. It would be fair to say I was a tad bitter about having to leave, since it had only been the internal posting policy that shot me in the foot, not anything to do with my performance. Being required to train a middle-aged, ditzy woman who would rather have been at home with her kids than working, when I was more than qualified for the... aw hell, it's just water under the bridge. Anyway, I had just gotten back from my goodbye party (a surprise function held in the Paint Department), when I was approached by a well-meaning friend with a square of newsprint in her hand.

"This may be something you could sink your teeth into," she said quietly.

Human Resources Clerk. Huh.

Back then they didn�t add the aggravating sentence, �Phone calls regarding this position not accepted� in their classified ads, so I called. The woman I spoke to was very accommodating, even telling me in a somewhat conspiratorial tone that I�d better get my resume in quickly, since she would be starting her maternity leave the instant after she filled the position. I hurriedly faxed it 15 minutes later, and was not disappointed.

I dressed to the nines for that interview, which was kind of odd, considering I was applying to Clerk at a chicken processing plant. The �kill plant�, even. When I met Martha, she was out to here, and sporting two wrist braces to deal with her gestational RSI. The look of discomfort during the hour and twenty-minute long interview was plain to see, and I did all I could to hurry it along while still appearing to be the obvious candidate. We bade each other goodbye at 2:00 p.m., and the story goes that her water broke around 3:00: I was in!

Thus began a three-year relationship with said processing plant, culminating in me being unceremoniously turfed one sultry October afternoon. Two days later, the Director of HR got the same treatment. Fourteen additional employees were pushed out over the next five months. To this day, anyone who looks at my resume and sees that company name just sighs, saying they certainly won�t be holding that against me. Which is good, since I spent the better part of two weeks in my dark basement in my jammies immediately after I got the boot:
my hairshirt now hangs in the back of the closet.

~~~~~~~~~~

Note, and totally off-topic: The other gigantic factor in my being hired was that I listed in the �Awards� section of my resume how I had the Bronze Duke of Edinburgh�s award. So did Martha. She considered me a good fit since I was most likely a keener like herself. Making the decision to add these �silly� comments to your resume will never do you wrong, I promise.

Posted at 12:28 p.m.