It’s that time of year. Roughly 4,000 people will graduate from Iowa State in May, and everyone needs a summer job.

What is a college student to do? Well, you know the drill. Applications need to be filled out, resumes revised, cover letters written, suits dusted off or bought, briefcases borrowed, references brown-nosed, portfolios put together….

I had to laugh when my roommate left on her way to a meeting with a prospective employer wearing a polo shirt and carrying her artwork in a clear plastic sack. She was perhaps not the most professional-looking, but it sounds like she will probably end up making about twice as much money as I will. Besides, all those art majors have to do is color, right? They don’t need to be professional, just stay inside the lines.

I think the whole interview scene is rather fake. I understand that many employers have hundreds of applicants to choose from. If an interviewee shows up blowing bubbles with her gum, that’s one more person to cross off the list. However, I sure would like to interview in sweats.

Of course, it’s not the employers’ fault; I know I wouldn’t want to be in their shoes.

Wait a minute; what am I saying? I would love to be faced with the excruciating decision of Jane vs. John. First of all, if I was hiring someone, that would mean I had a job. For another thing, it would be a power trip. I could make decisions based on the font on their resumes, what menu items they choose at lunch interviews, their home towns, or I could pick the person with the lowest grade point. Sounds like fun to me!

Naturally, I would never do such a thing. If I were making personnel decisions, I would be utterly and completely objective and fair. I would find the best person for the job, based on experience, education, interest shown and professionalism. I would never let shoe size enter into the equation, that’s for sure.

Seriously, don’t you wonder how employers make the decisions? For example, I have an interview today for a summer internship, which makes me very happy. What I want to know is why they picked my application over 20, 50, or 100+ others. My grade point average is not especially outstanding, my experience is limited, and I didn’t even include a picture. (Ha, ha.) The deciding factor must have been my witty column that I included as writing samples.

If you don’t have a job lined up yet, I recommend perusing the Job Market section in yesterday’s Des Moines Register. (The section is conveniently marked “Employment Advertising Inside This Section” to make it extremely clear.) I have become a regular reader of this section. First of all, I read it to find out just how bad off I’m going to be when I graduate. Don’t worry, I actually found some promising career opportunities this past Sunday, such as car washer, copier technician and cleaning technician.

Some jobs just sound good. One ad promised “Absolute Best Career.” Another company is searching for “Professionals.” That would be a nice job. If anyone asked what I do, I could say, honestly, “Oh, I’m a professional.”

I was also intrigued by the “loan analyst” position I saw advertised. I can definitely see myself expertly analyzing a client’s loan. “Let’s see here, you got a high interest rate, less capital to work with than you needed, you had to ask your father-in-law to cosign and you’re buying a crappy house with the money. I’d say you got a bad loan all right.”

Some ads are simply annoying. I don’t need to be reminded, “Experience Pays.” Is someone out there trying to discourage me? Of course, the most irritating ads by far in the Job Market section are the ones plugging classifieds. On page 27L, I found 12 Register ads IN A ROW. “Make classified your connection, it makes sense to use classifieds, telling the most people possible is a key, seeing is believing, we’re here to serve you…” Quit haranguing me with slogans, please!

I hope I haven’t discouraged you regarding job prospects. I, for one, refuse to lose hope. As Michael said in “For Better, For Worse,” a comic strip in Thursday’s Register, “If I have to starve to do what I want to do, then I’ll starve!” But I don’t think it will go that far. I can always be a “gift representative.” I can see it know: “I offer you this gift today on behalf of your cousin, Julie…”

Catherine Conover is a senior in liberal studies from Mapleton.