How to tell a new story about yourself

You know you’re in denial when your bio still says you live a thousand miles from where you really live. That’s pretty much where I am right now.

Also I couldn’t do obsessive late-night purchases on Anthropologie because I couldn’t remember that I still had the farm address on my credit card. And then I thought I didn’t have money because my card didn’t work. It’s messed up. I need to just get a grip on reality and update my address.

Try to to guess the one link on my site that gets the most clicks. Well, actually, it’s mailbag, and now that I’m writing this, I’m going to have to put a new question there. I have no idea why it’s so popular, but before I start getting friendly with quick money lenders,  I should focus on monetizing that section.

But after mailbag, the most popular link is the Photos of Penelope link. For the five people who read this blog and have never clicked on it, it’s here, but it’s also on the bottom of every page. And I used to really like the page a lot. It’s pictures of me having fun and being thin and feeling in love. And pictures of me using my startup funding to pay people to do my hair and my makeup to get me ready for a fancy photo session.

Now I look at that page and it’s mostly pictures of me on the farm. Crap.

Also I look so happy. Crap.

Also, as I write this my whole body is heating up, getting sweaty and woozy, which means just thinking of those pictures triggers a hot flash.

Something about hot flashes: after you have one you feel like you just worked out. There’s sweat everywhere. So I am trying to train myself to treat my hot flashes like Pavlov’s bell, and soon dopamine will come on command and I won’t have to work out to get the psychological benefits of working out. I’ll only have to have a hot flash.

Anyway, someone just asked me to send over my bio and a headshot. I sent them the picture on this post as my headshot. And I wrote a new bio. I told myself just get it written now, fast, and think about it more later.

Writing the bio felt like breakup sex: it’s easy to be great when there’s nothing at stake. So now I think I might just have this as my bio:

Penelope Trunk was named by TechCrunch as one of the 25 most revolutionary women in tech. Inc Magazine called her the world’s most influential career coach. BusinessWeek called Penelope’s blog a must read for Generation Y. Penelope has Aspergers, and probably so does everyone she’s ever been close to in her whole life, but people have a hard time admitting that she is right about this.

It’s short, for sure, but Melissa sent me a piece from McSweeney’s that makes fun of what it’s like to try to hire a Gen-Xer. And the description of the Gen-Xers who only sort of wants to work sounds exactly like me. Melissa points out that it’s a largely negative portrait of Gen-X, but I don’t care. If people want a longer description of who I am, they can read McSweeney’s.

I am thinking that there comes a point in every woman’s life where she should retire the idea of a headshot and instead use a picture of her living room. Forget you needing to see my full figure. My love language is quality time so you should imagine yourself caressing my couch.

My kids are also having to rework their bios.

Not that kids usually have a bio. But of course my kids both have bios.

This is because my younger son is a cellist, and you don’t practice music five hours a day without having a bio. And my older son has decided he wants to go to some fancy science school even though his mom makes a living writing about how dumb school is.  So, because I’m a good person I got on board with his goals even though they are not my goals and I wrote the bio he will use to get into college so that then we can work backwards from there.

Really. It’s not a mystery what bio gets a kid into a great school. So why not write the bio like it’s a to-do list?

For those of you who are getting impatient that this blog post does not apply to you, write your resume to get your dream job. Then work backwards to make it true. This is the type of strategic planning that gets you a great career.

It’s hard to do. If you can’t do it, you should be like my son and have me do it for you. But you’d have to pay me.

I can’t bear to write my bio because I just want to lie to you: Penelope had a very successful career and never gave it up for kids. Then Penelope raised kids who are exceptionally successful but she never gave up taking care of herself.

There will be a photo to illustrate this bio and it will be from Sports Illustrated. Not a naked one, but maybe one from an article about sportscasters. Because they present that magical combination of hotness and intelligent questions.

Actually, by the time you reach 50, everyone’s bio is the same: Worked. Had kids. Constantly underestimated how much happiness money can buy.

Should I say in my bio that I have two ex husbands and both left me and that I was in complete shock in both times? Who is so dense that they are completely blindsided by divorce. Twice.

By the way, this last time it was not divorce. Because in Wisconsin if you are living together but not married then it’s treated like a business partnership. But it doesn’t matter, because I still lost almost all my stuff. I just couldn’t get a grip fast enough to get my things. In fact, the amount I left there is so significant that I will show a big loss on my taxes this year. Which in a way will end up saving me tons of money.

So maybe my new bio should actually say, Penelope has had a wide range of different jobs and four startups, but she found that her most natural gift is taking a tax write-off from failed ventures.