Thursday, July 26, 2007

I Could Never be a Helper Monkey.

I almost went into journalism. My life's dream of being a writer, of striving to get into Michigan State University to be the next big thing in journalism evaporated one freezing morning at the Comm Arts building on the north end of MSU's massive campus. The temperature had to have been in the negatives, but I was officially sweating as I shared very personal elbow space with the students on either side of me. It was standing room only in this stadium seating style classroom where a 695 year old man had just taken his place at the podium. He began a lecture detailing his career in the profession and sharing with us bits of pre-emphysema phlegm and I knew right then and there that I didn't want this.
Now, I find myself comfortably at a job that I really enjoy, but do you ever wonder what would have happened if you had taken another path in life. Since growing up has taught me one thing, uncertainty, I find it is important to examine your career path and your goals occasionally. What would become of me if I couldn't be a graphic designer?
The following is a compilation of some suitable replacement careers and their not so suitable counterparts.

I could be a:
•Surgeon. I'm not sure why, but poking around in guts wouldn't phase me in the least. I could probably have the nerve to sew up a colon but get me near a cockroach and its all over.
•Farmer. I have a wonderful zit farm going on right now on my face. A brand new crop of mysterious acne has developed on my face and it seems to be in full bloom. •Race Car Driver. Not much explanation is really needed here. Lets just say I'd be more at home with people who don't feel like going slow is an option.
•Nutritionist. I love to read articles and learn about the needs of the human body and comparing the trends of dieting and exercising... whether its about carbs, fats, calories, I find it all very interesting. Would I be required to practice what I preach?
•Owner of a kennel. I love dogs, but I could never be a vet. I could never work too closely with victimized dogs because my soul would die. I couldn't be a foster person because I wouldn't be able to give the dogs up. I could own a kennel, I think.
•Art historian. I would love to know what kind of junk I'm looking at when I hit a garage sale without having to take it to the Antiques Roadshow.

And... Not so Much....

•Cook. Chef Boyardee hangs his head in shame every time I enter a kitchen. While my food has definitely become more edible, I must dirty every dish and utensil I own in order to make the simplest of meals.
•Olympian. Ha. Pass the french fries, please.
•Janitor. You puke- I puke. I am for DAMN serious.
•Teacher. I think a lot of people go through a phase where they think it might be fun to be a teacher... however, I realized long ago that I just don't have the patience. "WHY CAN'T YOU JUST UNDERSTAND!" usually isn't a teacher's motto...
•A nanny. I believe in spanking. And yelling. And manners. Since most people don't, that might present a problem...
•A Party Planner. What do you mean a game of Uno isn't exciting?
•A Sandwich Artist. I smell ham... I die a little.

And of course, I couldn't be a journalist. Spending the best years of my life writing about Paris Hilton's jail-time epiphanies would kill me.
So back to designing children's books.

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