I Don’t Want To Grow Up

6:54 pm · category: Uncategorized

Journalist Technically, my first “real” job out of college was as the creative consultant to the advertising department of a daily broadsheet. FYI: Advertising is the only department of a small newspaper in which a person can make real money because of commissions. I was creating the ads, layouts and special sections — and earning jack.
Public School Teacher: Secondary English, Speech and Journalism It took so much more than it gave. But it gave so much.
Youth Minister It probably would have been awesome at the right time and in the right environment. But in the end it was just badness.*
Hotel Management Right now I enjoy 90% of the job. I’ll probably always hate sales calls; it’s just not one of my fortes. But I love interacting with the guests and my employees. Much of the job is similar to teaching.

Ordained Minister Fifty bucks a pop every weekend to perform marriage ceremonies is easy cash, especially when getting the minister’s license involves sending five bucks to an address in the classifieds of the National Enquirer.**
Tutor She was a tiny five-year-old immigrant from Hong Kong named Eva. (Is it any wonder that, to this day, I call her Little Eva?) I quit when she was able to do mental math better than I could — which was when she was in second grade. Adding an entire column of five-digit numbers in your head when you’re eight years old means you’re automatically issued an I’m Smarter Than Innocent Bystander badge. Now she’s at West Point.
Domestic When I was in seminary, I cleaned houses. And I was so damned thorough. This explains why I’m so picky when I do housekeeping inspections at the hotel, although it calls into question why my own home usually has a thin layer of dust and small mound of dishes soaking in the sink.
Research Paper Ghost Writer I’ve written probably 20 papers for cash. Maybe five of them have received a grade of “B” or above. No matter how hard I try, I just can’t dumb it down enough. (Doesn’t anyone know how to use complex sentences?)

Wet Nurse My boobs are just sitting there doing nothing. I have this feeling that I’d produce awesome breast milk.
Foot Model I have the smallest feet on the planet; I suspect my parents practiced Chinese foot binding on me. Surely there’s a call for pretty size five feet out there, right?

*The progressive, euphemistic term for said badness is “major depressive event.” FYI: They used to call it “nervous breakdown.” I totally have my artist street cred now!
**I sent a check to an address in the Enquirer classifieds a full eight years before I felt my call to actual ordained ministry. I fully admit that it was nothing more than a money-making opportunity. I just hope the UMC never finds out about it…

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