Too weird...or just right?

Recently I was invited to apply for a special program connected with an organization. Good visibility, I thought, so I said, "Okay." Then they said, "We need a conventional resume." I wanted to say, "You must be kidding." I haven't put together a conventional resume since 1981, when I began writing academic resumes. And now I have no need for a resume, conventional or otherwise. Do I spend hours and hours trying to reconstruct my life of 30 years ago? More likely I'll say, "Is there something else that would satisfy your requirements?" And then I'd live with their answer. Often organizations have requirements that make no sense. Usually these requirements raise a red flag: "These folks are weird. Don't work for them." My favorite: I was offered a writing project to create instructional material for a university group in the midwest. I was living in New Mexico, over a thousand miles away. I would work from home, on a project basis. The university wanted me to sign a statement swearing that I subscribe to a drug-free environment. Now, let me make one thing perfectly clear. The only drug in my home is catnip. Organic catnip, to be precise. But I was tempted to ask, "Does this mean Creampuff (my calico cat, who is somewhat addicted to this herb) must indulge outside my home office? Or are you going to fly someone here to check the aspirin bottles? We're just three hours from the nearest airport." They also had a pile of application forms with tiny little squares that had to be completed by hand. I declined. But sometimes organizations have weird requirements for applicants and then turn out to be nice as pie once you're in the In Crowd. My colleague "Marilyn" went through agonies applying for a college teaching job, many years ago. The hiring committee demanded to see her original diploma. They questioned her choices of graduate courses and dismissed her research as "light." I would have said, "No way." But Marilyn smiled and smiled. She answered every question and even wrote nice thank you notes to every single interviewer. She got the job. She loved the job. "They're treating me like a queen," she reported happily, several years later. So does that mean we should all be more like Marilyn? Not necessarily. Marilyn's intuition may have told her, "Hang in there. It's worth the hassle." She was there. I wasn't. And I might not have thrived in Marilyn's environment. Who knows? The only real lesson from all this is, "Keep your power. Build your financial base. Someday you're going to really, really want to decline an offer. Or you will want to accept on your own terms." When that happens, saying "no" can brighten a whole day.