Some of you may know I am currently on a job hunt. I’ve been a stay-at-home mom for an eternity now. My daughter is five and will be in school full time this fall, so it’s time.
Plus the other day I called up the automated teller at our bank and she snidely said, “Your current balance is: diddly dollars and squat cents.” Sure, we’re broke. But did she have to be so mean about it?
Some of you may also know I have been babysitting an 11 month old at my home since she was three months old. While it is sad to say goodbye to her after practically considering her a member of our family for almost a year, I have to admit I am giddy with excitement to be forever done with formula, bottles, diapers… baby food being flung at my face (on some days, diapers being flung at my face) etc. It’s bittersweet to know my baby-caring days are finally over, but it’s also a door I am ready to walk (okay, run) through and never look back.
As fate would have it, there is a full time job opening at my daughter’s elementary school for an Educational Technician. Something I’ve done in the past, so thankfully, I will not have to submit to the superintendent of schools my poignant but 100% fake resume, Mom for Hire. Which is a smart move because I would hate for the school to give me a poignant but fake ed tech contract and/or poignant but fake paychecks.
So it seems the Maineiac is embarking into the working world again. Scary.
I have to tell you that I did consider other jobs before I applied for this ed tech position.
Judge on American Idol
I can slurp out of a Coke cup while crushing a singer’s dreams with the best of them. Also, I can pull off the raggedy-anne, gypsy, never-know-what-crazy-s***-will-come-out-of-his-mouth Steven Tyler look no problem.
Andy Rooney’s Replacement on 60 Minutes As you can see with my old post here, I am very curmudgeonly, I’m getting older, and I’m generally plain ticked off at all the stupid little things in this world. Like mixed nuts. What is the deal with those? Really poaches my eggs. Frosts my cookies. Bunches my shorts. Fries my taters.
Paula Deen’s Assistant My experience with two young kids (and a husband) have enabled me to hone skills such as: slapping your hand when you reach for the cookie jar, hoarding all the M&Ms in a secret place or wrestling the Reddi Wip out of your death grip before you overdose.
Kim Kardashian’s Butt I don’t think more needs to be said here.
Newt Gingrich’s Ex-wife I think I may already be one, who knows really.
Extreme Blogger Much like the couponers, but with less money saved and less stacks of useless boxes of toothpaste in my garage. Ideally, I would like to start writing two or three posts a day, every day for a solid year. And get paid for it. After I start my real job, I am afraid my posts will be about once every month. You’re welcome.
Which reminds me to tell you all that I will continue to read your blogs. I will be laughing or crying over your posts. Probably laughing through tears. Or maybe even scoffing and rolling my eyes. Who knows? But rest assured, I will be clicking that damn ‘Like’ button we all love so much. (Still waiting for the D’oh! button k8edid)
So wish me luck and a fat paycheck that is real.