In the past month, I have spent an extensive amount of time online, looking for suggestions on where to look for work. I graduated one year ago. I have a Bachelor of Arts in Integrative Arts. I studied photography and writing. What I do not have is the internal confidence. Hundreds of times, in online advice, the word ‘Network’ came up. It was to the point that the very word ‘network’ irritated me. Unemployed and frustrated, I needed work.

I called my ex-boyfriends mother, ‘Jane’. I had painted two bedrooms for her a few years back when her son and I dated. With a first impression, one could not tell that Jane was emotionally strapped with ADHD, depression, and bi-polar. Multiple medications and BAM, she was genuinely happy to hear from me. We did lunch.

Before arriving at the restaurant, Jane told me to bring my resume. She explained that she used to work with career services at the local college. A real life free career counselor; how did I not know that after three years with her son? Furthermore, she proclaimed, although she was not perfected in the grammar aspect, her structuring was top-of-the-line.

Jane ordered the equivalent of a lunchmeat sandwich and soup, something I would not normally eat. However, she offered to pay, and the meal seemed cheap and not messy, so I ordered the same. While waiting for our food, my job in painting was not discussed. She looked at my resume and started to hack it immediately. Three red lines and a circle crossed each other; that was just the first line.

Before Jane read the second line of my resume, she looked over the top of her glasses and apologized to me for destroying my job history. I was not offended. It was just the product of the software preprogrammed on my computer. Until that moment, I assumed it was fine.

Our sandwiches and soups were brought out by the server. A few minutes later, she finally pulled herself away from my mess of a resume, now littered with red slashes, X’s and lines.

We briefly discussed the price of my painting; more accurately, she offered $15 per hour and I graciously accepted. Over the next two weeks, I painted two ceilings, some walls, and trim in two rooms. Meanwhile, between sleeping and napping, she worked on my resume.

When she finally emailed it to me, I was amazed. I had no idea that I had accomplished so much. Jane set my new resume up with a priority on accomplishments. Listed were my five years of restaurant management experience, four years of photography and writing, and three years of property management. Each area was set up in a separate row with details that I assumed were irrelevant. My resume looked terrific.

Who knew that five years of working in a restaurant to get through school, photographing two friend’s weddings, another’s senior pictures, and buying my house, with three extra apartments, could mean so much?

I was looking for a job and came away with more confidence and money. Oops, I networked. I can not wait to do it again.