Friday, November 25, 2011

Work From Home

So after I landed the job at FuckingCapris, I went through an uncharacteristically ambitious moment. I thought it would be super cool to have two jobs. I applied, got accepted and met with manager type people. They were so into me they came to meet me at my house. The job wouldn't have started until January and it was short term. I could do it from home except for some traveling at the beginning. It seemed ridiculously perfect.

But there was a catch.

A big, fat, round catch.

Can you guess it?

I'll give you a hint: I would have absolutely destroyed my coveted six pack which was the pretty much the only draw back I saw.

Yeah. I was seriously considering being a surrogate mother!!

Gasp!!

AwesomeCool was adamantly against it. He was sure I would start loving the thing. I pointed out that it would not be related to me in anyway! When have I ever given a fuck about anything like that??

"You will. Then you'll get postpartum depression and we'll all be miserable!"

"Like we're not miserable now? And it won't be mine! They'd use her eggs! I'm just, like, renting out my uterus!"

The more he protested, the more adamant I became that it was by far my best idea ever.

All I could think about was twenty thousand for sitting around growing a baby. I wouldn't have to do anything but eat more!! It was the perfect job for me!!

The director of the program stopped by. She explained everything to me and I was 100% ready to have a baby on board.

She seemed totally into me. I was find with so many things other women in CrazyHellTown weren't, like gay parents and aborting the thing if it had a disease, or getting rid of a superfluous triplet. It was their baby, they could do whatever they wanted with it. I cannot express the enormity of the fuck I did not give.

She left and I had all kinds of pregnant positive feelings.

Then a few days later, she sent me an email. She said I needed to send her medical release forms. Whatever.

Then she said, "I couldn't help but notice that you didn't have a lot of furniture. Could you please explain your living situation so I can better represent you to our clients?"

Looking back, it's kind of weird that that innocent question about our furniture was what caused me to snap out of my delirium. Suddenly, instantly, completely, the last thing I wanted to do was have a baby FOR HER!! Who the fuck does she think she is asking about my furniture? Is there some kind of clutter quota I don't meet? Are the clients really at all concerned about end tables, bookshelves, chairs and couches?

I had never felt like I needed to explain myself less. Although I have to admit, it was a perfectly legitimate question. Having spent all our savings moving here, we quickly discovered 1000$ at IKEA didn't amount to much so we gave up on the 'extras'. We have a bed, but no bed frame. We have a dining room table and chairs, but no couch or any other chairs. (The AwesomeCool in-laws visited and said, "Wow, it's like a cave in here!")

We have an office chair we found in the trash along with a coffee table we put our TV and printer/fax/copier (does that not count as furniture?) And that's basically it. No, that's completely it. We sit on the floor and watch TV. Is that so terrible and weird? People went millennia without end tables, vases, decorative candles and couches. We can't take anything with us to wherever we go next so why spend a shitload of money on junk we don't need?

I could simply not work with someone so shallow and obviously harboring a strange contempt for minimalists. Also, what a coward for not confronting me face to face about my abhorrent furnitureless ways. If its soooooooo important to the clients that I have a damn color scheme, she should really put that in the requirements.

So that was the abrupt end of that.

We can all breath a sigh of relief.

My six pack is completely safe and resting comfortably after that near fatal ordeal. And it will be . . . forever.

5 comments:

Blackchild said...

If you are farming yourself you should sell your plasma every two days, sell your eggs, sell your hair, and rent out your uterus. I think between all of those activities you can realistically forgo gainful employment until menopause. Throw in a little baby batter from the mr. and you to might make it to retirement age without gainful employment That is the new American dream. If you want to make a few more dollars from the futon there are certain sites with gentlemen who aren't averse to paying women in the family way for "conversion" on the net.

James said...

I don't have a bed, as my savings was also spent on getting here. So.....fuck that shit.

SuperFantabulous said...

Blackchild: I bet I could find someone to buy a kidney too. Mine are free range, organic and probably super cute.

SuperFantabulous said...

James: Beds are totally overrated.

DrugstoreCowgirl said...

Just sell your eggs, it's much easier than having a baby! I heard in some cities like LA and NYC you can get around 10k for them! If I wasn't deathly afraid of needles I would do it, but you have to give yourself shots on a daily basis so that's not an option for me!