I once worked for a company that had an official policy against a coffee maker of any sort. It went so far as to outlaw water coolers (a policy that was rightly “ignored” by the on-site manager, but the ban on the coffee machine was strictly enforced).

The logic behind this was that employees would be less productive if they had any opportunity to mingle and waste time.

About 75% of the employees there smoked; about that same percentage worked 50+ hours per week.

After about 3 months observing this trend, I pitched a twice-a-day 15-minute exercise program to boost morale, increase productivity, and decrease stress. The idea was laughed at. I was laughed at.

That was the last time I suggested something without actually making it happen it first.

My first act of rebellion was first to bring a large carafe of coffee to work. Then my own coffee pot. Personal coffee makers were not against the rule, and since my desk was in a central location, lots of people stopped by for a quick cup of coffee. I’d say Hi and send ‘em on their way. If there was any decrease in productivity, we never saw it.

My second act of rebellion was to reject my chair in favor of an exercise ball (which was promptly “borrowed” by my coworkers). The trend began to spread.

My third act of rebellion was two-fold. First, I joined my co-workers on their smoke breaks to see just how much time it took them to get their fix and return to their desks. Each smoke break, they were taking roughly 5-10 minutes to every hour to smoke, recover, and get back to work.

I started taking short walks around the building whenever my boss or co-workers took a cigarette break. Whenever someone would go for a smoke break, I’d pull another coworker into a walking meeting around the building to figure out a project or whatever tasks needed to be done that day.

Rebellion has a place in corporate life. But, it also has a heavy price if you’re found out as the rebel. I was never discovered (or at least not chastised) and after I’d had my fun, I left that company of my own accord.

Rebels who get caught become martyrs. Even so, sometimes rebels become heroes.

Then, on another document, outline your motivations for wanting to sleep with me and your reasoning for why you would make a better sexual partner than, say, that applicant over there?

Do you do this before jumping in the sack with someone? I’m guessing the answer is hell no.

Could you find your soulmate if you had a pile of sexual resumes with details like guestimated multiple years of experience in “Oral” or “Intimate knowledge of the Kama Sutra forms”? Is there much difference between 3 and 5 years experience in missionary? Do Summa Cum Laude graduates have the edge? Post-coitus cuddlers need not apply.

There’s a HUGE difference between a job and a career; as large as the difference between f*cking and making love. Personally, I don’t want to be f*cked all day at work. I want to feel valued – like I can contribute something beyond a warm body.

Resumes and cover letters paint arbitrary pictures of who you are. Your strengths, your abilities. They speak nothing of your weaknesses, because – after all – who wants an applicant to be perfectly honest about their… shortcomings… up front? Shouldn’t that wait until the drawers are down, the lights turned down low, and there’s no turning back without losing face? Oh yeah, that makes perfect sense.

Resumes and cover letters present you as a nice little package… a Happy Meal. The only difference is the artwork on the outside (Armani or Target-brand suit?) and the toy on the inside (the spark of life – or lack thereof you show at the interview). Nevermind the stuff that doesn’t fit on those documents. It’s not important. All a company needs to know about you, your creative spark, your life’s work, your passion and drive to change the world… that can all be gleamed from two heavily-edited pieces of paper, right?

If we stopped lining up for this bullsh!t, they’d have to stop dry-humping us through a broken employment system or pausing every two weeks to add a diminishing amount of lubrication (payday, bitches!)

This Happy Meal approach might have worked in Grandma and Grandpa’s day… but it sure as hell makes no sense now. This isn’t a Gen-Y thing, hell, it isn’t even a young-people thing. We’re all getting f*cked here. With 80% of jobs going unlisted before being filled, you’ve really gotta wonder what those people have on their resumes. It must be something sexy.

Instead of focusing on bullsh!tting our way to an interview (and beyond) or networking through our friends and family to find our next “dance partner” – the equivalent of picking up strangers at the bar, can we please start focusing on finding meaningful work that we love? Can we strive to do work that we can feel proud of every day, because we’re passionate about what we’re doing, instead of feeling like we just spent 8 hours getting reamed?

Aren’t you sore yet? I know I am. At some point, we have to give clueless employers the tap and send ‘em packing.

I received a slew of comments from the Brazen Careerist crowd.  Most revolving around, “Look, it’s okay to ‘slum’ to pay the bills.”  I don’t think so.

I have, for the last two years, been perpetually stuck in the cycle I like to call, “This time it’ll be different.” This time, I said to myself – each and every time I started on a new programming job – it’ll be different.  Last time, I had too many bosses.  Last time, I didn’t get the support I needed.  Last time, I hated the constant 50-hour work weeks and crazy, constant stress.  Last time, I just wasn’t good enough to keep up as fast as they (and the economy!) needed me to. (edit: 6/1/09 – added “constant”)

I look at that list of reasons and think, “Oh my god, how do I tell an interviewer these things without sounding like an excuse-filled lame duck?”  My only defense is the truth. I have never lied to a potential employer to get a job.  I put my 5 biggest weaknesses on the About page of my blog.  I talk about life, love, money, and everything else on Twitter… I get boisterous and loud, I am never reserved.  I always speak my mind.  I’ve never had a problem owning a mistake.  If I’m one thing, it’s unflappably honest.  So when I say marketing is my passion, I really mean it.

I have been so tempted to find a job – any job, just to make the fear go away.  There are nights I can’t even sleep from the thought of missing rent, missing a car payment, all these medical bills from my appendectomy.  The thought of having to leave Yoda (my cat) behind because dad is allergic, if I ever had to move home with mom and dad.  I have to remind myself that I have the tools to solve these problems.  It’s only really hopeless if I let it become hopeless.

I’m not some Jim Dandy with no skills.  I’m the gorram man.  I aim to win.  It’s not ego. I won because I was able to give 100% – I didn’t stop until I was the best.  I really cared about the things I was doing.  (ps – gorram is a Firefly reference – it’s a swear word.)

And I remember how I feel about a month into every programming job I’ve ever had.  The nagging anxiety that I have a week to learn a brand new language, the depression of not being so busy I can’t even have lunch with Leslie, the frustration of getting home and being so tired and worn out from the day that I can’t bring myself to work on my personal projects.  I can’t do that.  I can’t be like that anymore.  I’ve never felt that way doing my personal projects – doing my own marketing.  I know that if I were doing what I loved to do, I wouldn’t feel like a failure.

You can’t do your best, give 100%, when you don’t like what you’re doing.  It took me two years to realize that.

I’m not going to settle anymore. I’m not a failure. I’m not a loser. I’m not a slacker. I’m… a leaf on the wind. Watch how I soar.

Those jobs I had, they would have been great for someone else.  There were problems, sure – mine and theirs.  There were great people and great things to do.  They weren’t the right great people for me.  They weren’t my great things to do.  The next position I take – the next task I perform for money, will be the first step on my real career.  The thing I’ve always wanted to do.

I can’t go back, because it would mean certain failure.  I can only move forward.