It occurred to me recently that I really need to update my resume, and by extension, my skill set. And by "occurred to me" I mean I awoke one morning with such resolve that I could hardly wait for Mr. New Media to likewise rise in order share my revelation and hash out the steps necessary to make entry into the current times and LEARN HTML already.
Now, I don't actually have any plans to enter the job market in the near future. Nor does the idea of relegating kid and craft time to a few short work-sapped evening hours send me into a career advancement frenzy. But I have always had one eye permanently affixed to Craigslist job listings. And a quick glance at the software and skills on employer wish lists makes very clear the fact that, yeah, my skill set could use a little refresh.
So I've been spending quite a bit of time aimlessly filling up blank space, flexing that part of my brain that coordinates the pushing of pixels and mixing of color swatches.
Thanks to Adobe's latest technological advancements in price, and my passing on the previous round of upgrades, the cost to bring my software to the now would cost about 2 months' worth of The Boy's preschool tuition, or 4,444 conservatively-priced ramens. The cost to learn HTML from someone a little more reputable than Mr. New Media (who, on the occasions that he works from home, wears what he calls his "coding pants," which look an awful lot like pajamas) is roughly one-third of that price. Still a lot of noodles, but a relative steal for being able to legitimately say that I have a working knowledge of something my kids will undoubtedly pick up as second nature
When I'm not trying to turn my online instructor to this blog by inserting Lovelihood bits and goodies into my practice coding, I've been tinkering with vectors and pathfinding, exercising my graphic designer muscles on woefully out-of-date software. But, It's not my natural state to perform creatively without a directive. So I've taken a cue from this and I'm using the alphabet as impetus to whip out pixels on a semi-regular basis. The first was, unimaginatively, a, done in apples, naturally. Sent that one off to Spoonflower for printing and I'm thinking maybe I'll do that for the entire alphabet of exercises, should I have the wherewithal to accomplish the whole thing. Up next: the letter g. This could make a sweet little quilt if I manage to finish it.
And I've thought for a while now that the kids need some play money. Because I'm not convinced I've done my part to prepare them for the rough and tumble world of short-sales and day-trading. These will likely also be sent off for fabric-printing, and then filled with something crinkly to please The Girlie's oral fixation.
And then a little something I've been drafting up for some japanese embroidery on linen.
And then back to the thing that needed shoring up in the first place. As it turned out, what my resume needed was total reconstruction. What I refer to as the Great Hard Drive Meltdown of 2008 claimed, among its various, un-backed-up victims, all traces of what I'd been handing out as a resume. I searched and dug and tore up the office looking for a hard copy, a three-jobs-ago version, anything that would render a complete recreation unnecessary. No luck. But probably a good thing, because I'm quite happy with what I ended up making. Note to employers: when you ask for resumes to be sent in Word format, it makes me immeasurably sad.
So that's what I've been working on. The sewing machine gets some sporadic attention, and knitting needles still clickety clack, faithfully interpreting preordained patterns. Meanwhile, I'm plugging away at the machine, not sure to what end, but quite enjoying myself, nonetheless.
