A New Career
Tuesday, May 26, 2009 at 9:18pm
My "temp" assignment is supposed to be up at the end of June. Though I need a job -- any job -- I am torn between praying it will be extended and praying that it will indeed end.
I think it’s time to consider a serious career change. I’m not alone in this predicament; "they" are now saying that most people will go through three distinct careers during their lifetime.
I guess my first career was... i dunno, miscellaneous crappy jobs? I sold furniture in the Alabama branch of Hell, where I was fired every other week, once because there were no towels in the men’s restroom (yes, my boss was clinically insane).... then worked about six months as (don’t gasp too loudly) a nanny to a 2 year old.... then three years in medical records at St. Thomas, serving as the whipping boy/scream magnet for doctors too stupid to find their own charts or know where to sign their orders..... oh, and don’t overlook the part time job at Super X Drugs, where I learned just how many disgusting minor medical conditions the body is prone to (I learned more than I ever wanted to know about RID, hemorrhoids, boil medications, wart removal and erection creams.)
My second career was as a graphic artist, which seems to be coming to a close now. I send out resumes, but can’t seem to get even an interview in the last couple of months.
So..... I am considering possible alternative careers.... here are my top options:
1) Opening my own meth lab.
Sure, i don’t know anything about chemistry, but i figure if gang-bangers with seventh grade public school educations can figure it out, surely a college graduate of some intelligence could manage it. It would certainly be an outlet for my entrepreneurial aspirations. The downside, of course, is the very likely possibility of blowing myself up. Or being shot up by the competition. I don’t consider being busted much of a drawback. In jail I would at least have better health care than I do now, and I could live with a lesbian lifestyle. Do you get cable in minimum security? Will I at least get to watch "Lost"?
2) Hooking.
This probably isn’t that viable an option. While sex is something I’m good at, and I’m not squeamish about it, have no moral qualms about providing a necessary service to mankind, i have to face the fact that a 45 year old overweight white woman is not exactly gonna have the johns lined up on the street corner. I don’t even think I could tap into the small niche market of fat fetishists, because I’m not fat ENOUGH for those perverts. I mean, they want to be able to get lost in the vast rolls of cellulite. Even if i was better physically suited, there’s the expense of motel rooms, condoms, mouthwash and knee pads. I don’t have the right wardrobe anyway. Not a single spandex mini dress in my closet. None of my earrings are big enough. I don’t even own any sky-blue eyeshadow.
3) Porn Star.
See above.
4) The Military.
Sigh. They won’t take me. I’m too old. And even if I weren’t, I’d die in boot camp. But it’s not fair really. I can step on a land mine just as well as any 21-year old marine. Why can’t I kill and die for my country and the oil companies like anybody else? Again, even the mismanaged and dangerous VA hospital system trumps my current health provider. By which I mean the very popular GNJGNHI HMO. ("Got No Job, Got No Health Insurance") I wonder if Hillary or Obama would put me on their personal health insurance policy?
5) Phone Sex Operator.
Now, this has real potential. It’s lucrative and legal. I can speak, I have a good imagination and plenty of time during the peak hours of 10 am to 5 pm. That’s when men can call on the company dime and not get caught by their wives. I can fake orgasms just as well as Meg Ryan in "When Harry Met Sally." I’d probably have to up my cell phone minutes and invest in a good fake photo, maybe my own website. But how many times can you say, in a suitably breathless voice, "Spank me, Daddy! Spank me!" before you start to yawn or giggle into the phone?
6) Marrying for Money: Becoming a Trophy Wife
Unfortunately, all rich bastards want younger, thinner, sexier, dumber women. At my current age, IQ and body type, I’m the first wife they’re all dumping. So to succeed in this career, I’d need a lobotomy and a plastic surgeon. Of course, having no health insurance, I’d have to finance it all with at least ten different credit cards. (Note to self: check credit limits.)
7) Customer Service Rep.
This would require either relocating to Calcutta, or at least learning how to say, "I’m so sorry that our product is crap" while sounding like Ghandi.
8) Janitorial Services.
Never mind. They probably have a union, and I don’t have the right contacts to get in.
9) Lottery Winner.
Oh, wait. I can’t win because I wouldn’t be able to say, with a straight face, "No, I’m not gonna quit my job. I may have 230 million dollars, but I’m gonna go right on working for the man every day until I drop dead." I have no job not to quit. And you have to buy at least one ticket to win, and they don’t take credit cards.
10) Being caught in a sex scandal with a leading Republican politician.
Shit, I’m the wrong sex. Never mind. No amount of foot-tapping in public restrooms is gonna get me on Jerry Springer.
11) Bank Robber.
It’s true, I know nothing about guns or stealing a getaway car, but I figure if I can get arrested for the meth lab thing, and spend a couple of years in the right prison, I can learn. It would be like going to college for criminals. You gotta invest in your career path, network and all that.
Of course, if I can find the right online sources, and learned to be a competent criminal without first acquiring the criminal record, my chances of getting away cleanly go up dramatically. I mean, really.... who would suspect a middle-aged, middle-class white woman of robbing the local SunTrust? I’d just jump in my SUV with the "I Brake For Yard Sales" bumper sticker, and go straight to the Starbucks drive-thru until the manhunt cooled down.
My "temp" assignment is supposed to be up at the end of June. Though I need a job -- any job -- I am torn between praying it will be extended and praying that it will indeed end.
I think it’s time to consider a serious career change. I’m not alone in this predicament; "they" are now saying that most people will go through three distinct careers during their lifetime.
I guess my first career was... i dunno, miscellaneous crappy jobs? I sold furniture in the Alabama branch of Hell, where I was fired every other week, once because there were no towels in the men’s restroom (yes, my boss was clinically insane).... then worked about six months as (don’t gasp too loudly) a nanny to a 2 year old.... then three years in medical records at St. Thomas, serving as the whipping boy/scream magnet for doctors too stupid to find their own charts or know where to sign their orders..... oh, and don’t overlook the part time job at Super X Drugs, where I learned just how many disgusting minor medical conditions the body is prone to (I learned more than I ever wanted to know about RID, hemorrhoids, boil medications, wart removal and erection creams.)
My second career was as a graphic artist, which seems to be coming to a close now. I send out resumes, but can’t seem to get even an interview in the last couple of months.
So..... I am considering possible alternative careers.... here are my top options:
1) Opening my own meth lab.
Sure, i don’t know anything about chemistry, but i figure if gang-bangers with seventh grade public school educations can figure it out, surely a college graduate of some intelligence could manage it. It would certainly be an outlet for my entrepreneurial aspirations. The downside, of course, is the very likely possibility of blowing myself up. Or being shot up by the competition. I don’t consider being busted much of a drawback. In jail I would at least have better health care than I do now, and I could live with a lesbian lifestyle. Do you get cable in minimum security? Will I at least get to watch "Lost"?
2) Hooking.
This probably isn’t that viable an option. While sex is something I’m good at, and I’m not squeamish about it, have no moral qualms about providing a necessary service to mankind, i have to face the fact that a 45 year old overweight white woman is not exactly gonna have the johns lined up on the street corner. I don’t even think I could tap into the small niche market of fat fetishists, because I’m not fat ENOUGH for those perverts. I mean, they want to be able to get lost in the vast rolls of cellulite. Even if i was better physically suited, there’s the expense of motel rooms, condoms, mouthwash and knee pads. I don’t have the right wardrobe anyway. Not a single spandex mini dress in my closet. None of my earrings are big enough. I don’t even own any sky-blue eyeshadow.
3) Porn Star.
See above.
4) The Military.
Sigh. They won’t take me. I’m too old. And even if I weren’t, I’d die in boot camp. But it’s not fair really. I can step on a land mine just as well as any 21-year old marine. Why can’t I kill and die for my country and the oil companies like anybody else? Again, even the mismanaged and dangerous VA hospital system trumps my current health provider. By which I mean the very popular GNJGNHI HMO. ("Got No Job, Got No Health Insurance") I wonder if Hillary or Obama would put me on their personal health insurance policy?
5) Phone Sex Operator.
Now, this has real potential. It’s lucrative and legal. I can speak, I have a good imagination and plenty of time during the peak hours of 10 am to 5 pm. That’s when men can call on the company dime and not get caught by their wives. I can fake orgasms just as well as Meg Ryan in "When Harry Met Sally." I’d probably have to up my cell phone minutes and invest in a good fake photo, maybe my own website. But how many times can you say, in a suitably breathless voice, "Spank me, Daddy! Spank me!" before you start to yawn or giggle into the phone?
6) Marrying for Money: Becoming a Trophy Wife
Unfortunately, all rich bastards want younger, thinner, sexier, dumber women. At my current age, IQ and body type, I’m the first wife they’re all dumping. So to succeed in this career, I’d need a lobotomy and a plastic surgeon. Of course, having no health insurance, I’d have to finance it all with at least ten different credit cards. (Note to self: check credit limits.)
7) Customer Service Rep.
This would require either relocating to Calcutta, or at least learning how to say, "I’m so sorry that our product is crap" while sounding like Ghandi.
8) Janitorial Services.
Never mind. They probably have a union, and I don’t have the right contacts to get in.
9) Lottery Winner.
Oh, wait. I can’t win because I wouldn’t be able to say, with a straight face, "No, I’m not gonna quit my job. I may have 230 million dollars, but I’m gonna go right on working for the man every day until I drop dead." I have no job not to quit. And you have to buy at least one ticket to win, and they don’t take credit cards.
10) Being caught in a sex scandal with a leading Republican politician.
Shit, I’m the wrong sex. Never mind. No amount of foot-tapping in public restrooms is gonna get me on Jerry Springer.
11) Bank Robber.
It’s true, I know nothing about guns or stealing a getaway car, but I figure if I can get arrested for the meth lab thing, and spend a couple of years in the right prison, I can learn. It would be like going to college for criminals. You gotta invest in your career path, network and all that.
Of course, if I can find the right online sources, and learned to be a competent criminal without first acquiring the criminal record, my chances of getting away cleanly go up dramatically. I mean, really.... who would suspect a middle-aged, middle-class white woman of robbing the local SunTrust? I’d just jump in my SUV with the "I Brake For Yard Sales" bumper sticker, and go straight to the Starbucks drive-thru until the manhunt cooled down.
