Today I woke to the happy e-mail that I am now a professional freelance writer for a local law firm. Yey! The articles that I will be creatively typing away at will persuade untold millions to gain representation from the firm that I am now supporting. The job sounds creative and imaginative on my end. After being given a subject, my end is to research, report and write an article. The especially intriguing aspect is that I will be signing a disclosure stating that I will not tell ANYONE any details of a case. So now the jokes can begin:
I could tell you what I am doing, but then I will not only have to kill you, I will also sue you.
Why was the blond author not fired for throwing away the W's at the M&M factory? She had representation from her moonlight job as a writer at a local law firm.
Why did the blond author put lipstick on her forehead? She couldn't make up her mind. Luckily, her lawyer friends cleaned up the mess.
Okay, I'll stop killing you with the terrible jokes. They are certainly crappier than the ones I told when working on my Economics thesis in school--the economic feasibility of sewage lagoons. Well, it was a shitty subject, but everybody poops.
Job jokes have been even worse in my life time. When we owned a Children's Resale Shop, there should have been a law made against people asking me how much children re-sale for. If I had a quarter for every time I heard that one...
Hmmm, maybe the biggest laugh came from a friend when we were discussing royalties made from Hey Little Baby (she is not a writer). In discovering what I made, she pondered her financial situation for a moment and came back with this.
"I owe about that in credit card debt. Maybe I could write a story this weekend, get it sold, then pay off my debt."
Perhaps only a fellow author will appreciate the ache that was worn in my side from not being able to laugh at her naivete. I did not want to offend my friend. If only it were that easy to get published by a major publisher! I would be retired in, well, wherever I wanted that was tropical, gorgeous and served plenty of pina coladas by very good-looking tan waiters.
In reflecting on my life and the many careers I have chosen, I am gaining a deeper understanding as to my love of variety--it gives me a great source from which to draw some extremely stupid jokes.
Thank you for sharing in my joy.