A couple weeks ago I planted some catnip seeds. They're sprouting now in my bathroom window. This morning as I showered, looking at the cup with the green frizz got me thinking about patience, job searches, business, and life in general.

Nothing happens overnight, but if you plant seeds and nurture them, they grow. Sometimes they grow without nurturing. Long after you've forgotten all about them, your seeds have turned into plants.

The key to success: serving others.

Is it ironic or paradoxical that this is because people mainly care about themselves?

The smartest business advice I've ever gotten:

"Nobody gives a f*** about you."

Sorry, but that's the way it is. Hiring managers don't care about your shoeless children. Potential customers don't care how hard you work. All they care about is what you can deliver for them. As you build relationships with these people, they might come to adore your family or appreciate the fact that you burn the midnight oil for them, but when you first meet someone in any business capacity, they really don't care one whit about you.

Therefore, to be exceptional, to set yourself apart from the pack, you have to do two interrelated things:

I agonized over whether to post this because I don't want to embarrass anyone, but I already told this person that their resume was the worst I had ever seen. As long as I don't mention them by name, they shouldn't mind my using their learning experience to help others.

I may not be very good at getting jobs for myself these days, but I have written resumes that have helped others land jobs for which they were probably under-qualified. The curse of the writer is that to really be one, you have to go all-in, which hurts you in the face-to-face world. You can't revise what you've said in an interview without looking foolish. With writing, nobody ever has to know how atrocious the first draft may have been. At any rate, I know how to write a resume that kicks ass and takes names, and I'd like to pass that knowledge along, free of charge.