Jobs are For Squares

Okay, so maybe not squares but surely not for the faint of heart. Having successfully avoided gainful employment for the better part of my adulthood, my system has taken a bit of a hit with this sudden burst of job-like activity. Up 'til now, I've been pretty good at what I consider the job of "being me". It takes a lot of work. I'm not lazy. I just don't tend to get paid for things.

Take the PTA (please!)........I somehow got sucked into its axis of evil and have been unable to extricate myself in spite of my very worst behavior. As "Membership Chair" I get to try to encourage people to join the Red Rocks Elementary PTA. Me? Are you fucking serious? Has it escaped the attention of ANYBODY that I am, um......COMPLETELY INNAPROPRIATE? Not to mention that I scare children. And sometimes grown men. Me. Poster child for the PTA. But that's one of my jobs. For which I get paid, oh.....nothing. I sure do love it. "Here's a form. Give me your freakin' money and move along. NEXT". I also like the mind-numbing and soul crushing task of recording all of the members that I'm able to drum up with my sunny disposition and mailing them to the Colorado PTA office twice a year. And it sure is great getting invited to all of these "Team Building" PTA seminars. I love those. All of the other mom's, united as one for the better good of children everywhere. I just put on my colorful seasonal sweater, my mom jeans, a sensible pair of shoes and grab some paper for all of those helpful notes I'll be taking and I'm off!

Then there's the pool. Have I mentioned that I was on the infamous "Pool Committee" at RRCC? Well I was. Our pool was essentially akin to an inner-city prison yard. How I know what an inner-city prison yard looks like is irrelevant to the story. Chain link fence, Tuff Shed housing both bathrooms AND cabana food service, industrial spools (painted yellow, just in case you hadn't noticed they were industrial spools at first! Hey! Look at me!!!! I'm a fucking industrial spool!!!!), etc. Oh, and let's not forget the "Game Room", also housed in the Tuff Shed, because some dumb-ass decided that we brought our kids to the pool only to send them back inside. And into a Tuff Shed no less. "Here, Jimmy......you've been watching too much TV this summer. Let's go down to the country club pool so you can play darts (no lie) in a dank and depressing metal shed......look out for the chickens!". Anyway, this was a project that sorely needed doing and as I have a degree in interior design, I was asked to join several other chicks and an ever able pool manager in taking on THAT Herculean task. Pool? All better. Pretty awesome, in fact. So there's that. That was a job-like experience. Busted my ass, too. Did I get paid? Noooooooo. But I do get to sit at a table rather than an industrial spool when having lunch. And I'm pretty sure the last of the chickens have been rounded up. So there's that.

My point is, I am willing to work and work pretty hard. I just haven't really found myself getting compensated for my efforts. Well, that's all about to change as I am now officially all about the Benjamin's. Baby. But I'm gonna bitch about it. 'Cause that's how I do. Alrighty then! Back to the glue. Wonder what interesting object will become attached to my person today? It's anybody's guess.