A Dirrty Job.

Okay, so despite the personal record I set yesterday in being turned down for two jobs in the same hour, I'm feeling pretty good. The weight of "this isn't a temp situation anymore so start caring about what you do" is gone. The fear of screwing up many people's loans is gone. The fear of permanent corporate drudgery is not gone, but it did go out for a long lunch.

I'm also feeling good because I (finally) made it to the Pilates class at my gym. It was a good class; lots of core-strengthening exercises, but I think I prefer yoga. Wow, I'm boring today.

Okay, what should I write about? Former cruddy jobs? Okay then! I've had many jobs. Sometimes two or three at the same time. In the span of my job history I've been:

- a grocery bagger
- a waitress (several times)
- a babysitter
- a barista (twice)
- retail clerk (several times)
- jeweler's assistant
- concession counter flapper girl
- movie theater floor manager flapper girl
- convenience store clerk (ugh)
- receptionist
- marketing researcher
- marketing librarian
- producer of sales leads info
- unemployed slacker
- temp

I'm sure I'm forgetting something, but I think that's it.

The worst: marketing librarian and convenience store clerk. The best: unemployed slacker and marketing researcher. Next on the list I would like to see "independently wealthy due to unexpected inheritance from distant relative". Unlikely. More realistically, I'd like to add "well-paid researcher at a hip local ad agency". That would do very nicely.

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I just had a lovely moment. I went out on my lunch break and was driving around, eating candy and listening to Duran Duran on the radio. Perfect.

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New subject: I like pop music. I suppose it would be a guilty pleasure if I felt guilty about it. I remember horrifying a couple of my friends a few years back by admitting my crush on The Spice Girls. (Keep in mind, this is the same couple who owns Will Smith's "Big Willie Style". We all have a little pop music skeleton in the closet, I think.)

My taste in pop music is all over the place. One of the best presents I got for my birthday was: "Ladies & Gentlemen: The Best of George Michael", which my sister gave me. Oh man, it rules. The best part is that my brother-in-law (who is a musician) is jealous that I got it and he didn't. My best friend's husband (also a musican) loves it too. My husband? Not so much. I like to leave it in the CD player so he'll hit play, expecting to hear Johnny Cash and getting "Careless Whisper" instead. Shoulda known better than to cheat a friend, baby.

But I like the bad stuff too. I've lately been digging the new Justin Timberlake song "Cry Me a River", even though I think he's a tool. (In an interview he said if he were a rapper, his name would be White Chocolate. Snork.)

I also don't hate Christina Aguilera's song "Dirrty", which has the most hilarious video ever. Chaps! Girl fights! Contortionists! Mud wrestling! Fire-eating! Furries! Dirrty! Hilarrious! How could you not like it?

I do have my limits, though. I will never like Shania Twain, Nelly, The Backstreet Boys or Mariah Carey. And, while I appreciate that Avril Lavigne is trying to fill a slightly different marketing niche than the rest of the young female solo acts, I still think she's a big poser. Punk rock, my ass.

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Okay, so that's all for today. Have a good weekend and if you're still at work and want something fun to read, check out the concert riders page at The Smoking Gun.

0 chatty monkeys