Dear Sir/Madam

I am currently unemployed and am seeking a job in your glorious establishment. I have a Diploma in XXX from the University of XXX, and sincerely hope you will view it and get back to me.

...What? You can't? But you said you had a position availabl-.... Oh, you're giving the job to your cousin...but I got really good results, perhaps you have another position you could-...your best friends girlfriend is taking it? Well. Thanks for your time.  

...Of course I really wish I could say to them; I hate you and I hope you die along with your nepotism, but alas, the lowly job hunter must restrain himself, lest word spreads of his arrogance.  I guess that's where the beauty of blogging comes in, a chance for one to vent about life's seemingly endless stream of torture without fear (unless you're one of those people who get fired on account of a rather inappropriate Facebook comment about the boss. Newsflash guys, don't let anyone from work be your Facebook friend).  Truth be told I haven't been unemployed that long, having just recently graduated 2 months ago, but do we not all hold onto that star-spangled fantasy of stepping out of University into the job of our dreams? Fortunately I'm not naive enough to believe that, but what is agitating me so much about the whole ordeal are my old high school acquaintances. 

It may be foolish to compare yourself to others, but when you hardly have much to your name right now, and some of the same guys you schooled with are already bloody managers or have their own homes, you have to wonder, was studying worth it? The vast majority of the aforementioned successful friends are guys whose collective IQ may have just pushed 100, at a stretch. But, they knew people, who knew people, who really knew people, and lo and behold, you find yourself given ideal opportunities to succeed. So I beg to know, instead of spending 3 years slaving over textbooks, perhaps I should have started dating a rich guys daughter? Applying for that study loan and getting it was a mission, and maybe the time would have been better spent finding the right arse to kiss?

I know I'm moaning, I know I'm being impatient and somewhat jealous,  and I know the vast majority of fields of work out there wouldn't even blink at you without some form a decent education, but dammit I need to vent, so let me just fester in my pool of self pity just a little bit longer. I promise I'll stop, as soon as I find a job.

Well, maybe.