InDesOWNING

If only I could put into words just how awesome I feel about myself when it comes to my Adobe InDesign comprehension, and then put those words onto my resume and subsequent cover letters.  I’d imagine I’d have not only a job, but a permanent Russian hooker underneath my desk for the rockstar ability I like to boast.

I’m fairly confident that I’ve already exceeded simply impressing my temporary peers with what I’ve demonstrated thus far, but after the events of today, I like to think that I may have convinced them that I’m like the grand weezard of InDesign here.  In seven business days, I have improved upon templates developed in a time when Adobe PageMaker was the norm, and tackled three projects deemed “too tedious to do,” because of my InDesign knowledge.

Because of me, this place will no longer have to manually adjust final PDFs, and insert covers, legal pages, tables of contents into proper order, since I showed them how to section off pages within the ID documents and create proper sequential page numbering.  Because of me, this company can actually justify throwing out their Adobe PageMaker installation disks that amazingly, they actually still have, and handed to me in preparation for the “too tedious to do” project.  Little did they realize just how seamless a .PMD file converts into an ID format until shown by me.

Seriously, aside from the egregious boasting, self-high fiving, and literary fellating I’m giving myself, if any company that had a position that was purely InDesign based, and they passed up on me, they would legitimately be brain dead.  Not just brain dead, but physically dead as result of becoming brain dead, and their corpse dug up, lobotomized, and having someone urinate on their dead brain before letting it rot for worms and crows.  I’m that confident in my InDesign skillz.

A glance back in time

The last time I was up at my parents house, when they weren’t there, after they changed the locks and went to Costa Rica, I couldn’t sleep.  I was bored with computers, there were no sports on, and I was without an XBOX, so I eventually found my old high school yearbooks.  After spending about two minutes glancing back to junior, and senior year photos, slightly amused by the youth in mine, and everyone’s faces, I found my way to the signatures section, since I couldn’t give a shit less about anything else in these gigantic four pound editions.

The above drawing was drawn in my yearbook by my last high school crush.  Naturally, as many other teenagers, I went through my share of unrequited crushes, but this one was only one I ever really manned up and came out to admitting to, directly to her.  Naturally, right after graduation, so I wouldn’t have to really see her again if things went awry.  Surprisingly, it was not received poorly, and she even kissed me on the cheek before we parted ways and would never see each other again.  I vaguely remember feeling a sense of satisfaction, and slightly relieved that it went as well as it did, back in those days.

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