So Close and Only Three Bra Sizes Too Small
It's no secret that I would love, Love, LOVE a job in social media. Unless you didn't know me. Then you wouldn't know that. It wouldn't necessarily be a secret, though. It'd just be unknown to you. Because I would be unknown to you. Anyway. You get my point. Hopefully.
To me, there would be no greater thrill than getting paid to face, blog, tweet, flick, space, and digg for a living. (I shortened them because I'm hip. That's right, kids. Mama is "Hip.") My witty commentary could actually earn me a paycheck and I could finally say, "Hey, Mom - remember when you told me that when I talk and talk and talk and talk I exhaust you? Well, guess what? These people PAY ME to keep on talking! How's that for irony?!" And also I wouldn't have to pretend to be working when I wasn't. I'd actually be working.
Today I saw a job posting that was just about perfect. It was a full time position in the city. (Ooh! I could take the train!) Full time is good. A commute is even better. Because I have three kids which means I don't get privacy in the bathroom but I could surely get it on a train they weren't on. Try to barge in on my now, punks! The job requirements were so up my alley.... facebook, twitter, increase traffic via social means - yes! This is something I could do! This is something I should do! This is something ----
Oh.
This is something for Playboy.
Huh. Well, maybe they really are interested in hiring a flat-chested, jiggly-thighed, paunchy-bellied, dark-circles-under-the-eyes-because-I-haven't-slept-in-weeks-and-what-on-earth-is-up-with-my-hair-it-feels-like-straw woman with excellent grammar skills. Right? Right?
To me, there would be no greater thrill than getting paid to face, blog, tweet, flick, space, and digg for a living. (I shortened them because I'm hip. That's right, kids. Mama is "Hip.") My witty commentary could actually earn me a paycheck and I could finally say, "Hey, Mom - remember when you told me that when I talk and talk and talk and talk I exhaust you? Well, guess what? These people PAY ME to keep on talking! How's that for irony?!" And also I wouldn't have to pretend to be working when I wasn't. I'd actually be working.
Today I saw a job posting that was just about perfect. It was a full time position in the city. (Ooh! I could take the train!) Full time is good. A commute is even better. Because I have three kids which means I don't get privacy in the bathroom but I could surely get it on a train they weren't on. Try to barge in on my now, punks! The job requirements were so up my alley.... facebook, twitter, increase traffic via social means - yes! This is something I could do! This is something I should do! This is something ----
Oh.
This is something for Playboy.
Huh. Well, maybe they really are interested in hiring a flat-chested, jiggly-thighed, paunchy-bellied, dark-circles-under-the-eyes-because-I-haven't-slept-in-weeks-and-what-on-earth-is-up-with-my-hair-it-feels-like-straw woman with excellent grammar skills. Right? Right?
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