Dream Job

I've been job hunting this spring and summer--long, stressful story about contracts not renewed. And the other night I dreamed some convoluted dream--you know how they can be--about a job involving pasta, the beach and blogging.

These are three of my favorite things, but I can't for the life of me figure out how to make a career out of them.

• Pasta: I love to eat it, but who's going to pay me to do that? And I'm not a cook--good or otherwise, so the chances of my making a fortune off some brilliant pasta recipe are slimmer than the skinny jeans hanging in my closet that I can't get into anymore.

• Beach: I can't afford to live on the beach, and that's where I'd want to be, right on the water, the sound of the waves soothing any other dreams I might have that aren't as good as this one. (And, besides, Chris doesn't like the beach enough to live there, so I'd have to go alone.)

• Blogging: If I sat around in my pjs all day blogging (Not that I really think that's what bloggers do. My favorite bloggers obviously get out--a lot. That's why I like to read them. But, it's what I was doing in one of the less convoluted parts of my dream, which was a LOT less convoluted than this sentence.) well, I wouldn't have to worry about affording the beach or whether or not Chris would move there, because I couldn't even afford the pasta and Chris would not put up with that for very long. And I wouldn't really blame him.

So, any ideas how to combine the above into a recipe for success? Please make the recipe easy to follow, 'cause, like I said, I don't cook.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Donkey with a death wish

Image
At the edge of the caldera, in the tiny town of Fira, on Santorini, my sister, Susan, and I peered out at the Agean Sea, marveling at a blue they created just for Greece. Our eyes traveled to donkeys ferrying people and things up from the boats docked at the old port below. I don’t remember which of us thought it would be fun to hike the zigzagged path to the port, then ride a donkey back up, but it was a terrible, scary, asinine, stupid idea. It was still fairly early in the morning when we started down the thousands of wide, uneven, cobblestone, horror-movie steps. But the sun that beat on the island in August didn't have a clock. We'd finished our water and worked up a sweat before we hit the half-way point. At the port we poked into gift shops, bought a couple of trinkets and drank more water before seeking out our animal transport. We climbed a few steps, handed over our money and sat down on the next donkey that waited beside the top step. A mother and her two...
Read more

Nana goes to college

Image
My Nana died a week ago today. She was 92 years old and lived, at least as far as I knew, a full, wonderful life, though she certainly had her share of hardship. She left behind three daughters (my mother included), eight grandchildren and 14 great-grandchildren. We were all at the burial and memorial service in Charlotte, NC, this past Friday. Five of the eight grandchildren spoke about Nana at the service. And I learned that she apparently thought we were all as special as I know I was to her. That was the theme that ran through all five of our stories. Here's what I said about her. I knew from early on that Nana loved me, not in some abstract, send me a card with money in it for Christmas kind of way, but in a concrete way that made me know she wanted me around. She introduced me to her friends. She wanted to know mine. She was a part of my life. I took all of that for granted until my freshman year of college. I was at Emory, living in a dorm that had been built in the 1920s. I...
Read more

The cats who killed Christmas

Image
Free to BAD home , three cats who killed our Christmas tree! The crime: Close-up of the victim: The carnage: Last gasp of pink Christmas lights: Death of the flamingos-pulling-Santa's-sleigh ornament. My very favorite one, hand painted by my cousin Tina. The suspects: Dusty, the ringleader Stewie, the muscle Miss Kitty, the brains behind the operation Approach these felines carefully. They are considered clawed and dangerous!
Read more