G.I. Joe

“So today they’re suggesting that I might make a good Asymmetric Warfare/Land Warrior Military Analyst,” I say to my husband yesterday morning.

“That’s our ad,” my husband said. “We need one in our building.”

Prior to last week’s securing of desirable employ, I’d been loosely pursuing career options in popular online forums, which basically amounted to reading listings my husband sent my way, and answering a questionnaire about my career interests.

Do you want a job that requires creativity? Absolutely!

Do you want to work indoors or outside? I’ll do my work outside, thank you.

Do you like routine tasks, or do you prefer challenges? Doing things the same way twice really bores me.

Based, evidently on my questionnaire answers with no regard to the information provided on my attached resume, I receive periodic suggestions via email. If the customized recommendations are a viable indicator, I might have had a bright future as an OB GYN, a cake decorator, a night supervisor, or, impressively, an Asymmetric Warfare/Land Warrior Military Analyst.

“Am I well suited for this position?” I asked my husband.

“No. Not at all,” he responded, a little too quickly for my liking.

“Why not?” I demanded. “What do these people do?”

“They decide what sort of weapons are appropriate in specific warfare situations,” he responded.

“Well, there’s always guns and clubs,” I said.

“Mmmm…see, that’s why you wouldn’t be good at this,” my husband responded with authority.

“Well, I don’t like war anyway,” I said, ready to dismiss the position out of hand, before my own words rendered me suddenly inspired. “Wait! I know exactly what to send,” I triumphed. “A box of joe and a couple dozen donuts! There’s nothing that can’t be solved over coffee. ”

“If coffee and donuts could solve a war, I’d be out of a job,” my husband said, heading for the door.

It was then that I realized that I’d likely be an outstanding Asymmetric Warfare/Land Warrior Military Analyst and my husband knew it and was running scared.

“I’ll bet you were just a minimal match,” he grumbled, referencing the system the referring firm uses to rate the level of compatibility between the job and the seeker.

This was true, but I had an air-tight workaround.

“They say I’m as qualified to analyze asymmetric warfare as I am to teach English,” I responded, because it was also true. They did. “And I have a master’s degree in that.”

So it’s a good thing that I’m already under contract because it’s clear that my husband wasn’t going to put in a good word for me. It’s also clear that, being the superior candidate that I evidently am, I’d have easily landed the job, putting me in the awkward position of being in constant inter-office combat with my own spouse. And I wouldn’t have stood a chance in that battle—my husband hates coffee.