I spend so much time at my current job doing anything but the work that it’s my job to do. I call it my “current job” because the very second I get a better offer I’ll be out of here. Later suckers!
In the meantime, I have a lot of time to daydream about my ideal profession. Here are some of my ideas:
1. Interior Decorator
2. Something at a magazine
3. Stay-at-home mother
5. Professional Blogger
6. Television Critic
7. Professional Shopper
8. Personal Shopper
9. Online Shopper
You get the gist.
So, we all know about Chanel and Louis Vuitton and Balenciaga and lust after it and most of us can’t afford any of it.
I just spent my lunch half hour leafing through a Flare. As always, I skipped most of the magazine and headed straight for the fall fashion pages. They should be called Fall Fashion for the Queen and Oprah because they are the only women whole could realistically afford any of the pieces declared “Fall’s Must Haves!”
Where, I ask, are the magazines that will tell me about the stellar deals at The Gap or The Banana Republic or, if I’m really feeling like splashing out, Top Shop?
If only I weren’t quite so lazy I’d attempt to break out and fill this niche in the market. Instead I’ll stuff the rest of my sandwich in my purse and take it home for dinner.
I’m an emotional eater. When I’m depressed, I eat. When I eat, I get fat. When I get fat, I get depressed. When I get depressed, I eat.
That, my friends, is a vicious cycle.
I am constantly changing my mind regarding what I want to be when I “grow up”. By 30 I though this process would be complete and I would happily engaged in a well paid and fulfilling position. I’m well paid but the rest is kind of… meh.
I can see myself doing something fabulous such as interior decorating but one should live in a large city to be successful in a profession like that.
Back to the grind I suppose.
I am a diehard online shopper. It’s an art and I’ve been perfecting it for years. I know where to go for discount designer clothing, purses, shoes, makeup, jewelry, bedding, furniture, gifts, body products and anything else that a girl might need.
A strange thing happens to me though when I let anyone in on my secret finds. I’m happy to share at first but then I find I am overcome with jealousy if they actually buy anything. I feel like I should get credit somehow… like they should have to wear a sign around their neck that says “poutine and prada helped me find this outfit!”
Perhaps I should go into busniess, people could tell me what they’re looking for and I could track it down. I could give out sleek silver business cards.
I would enjoy that.