When I was a boy, I thought “Playboy photographer” would be the perfect job.
More recently, I thought, “guy who builds fun habitats for animals.”
Now I’m thinking “test subject for side-effect studies,” because I’m experiencing just about everything listed on that sheet of warnings that came with my painkillers.
Disorientation? Crankiness? Hornets flying out my ass? Check.
Flatulence? Sorry.
What would your ideal job be?
Writing up lists of side-effects for hypochondriatic old cranks to endure.
Spring – I’ld like work as Spring.
I’m doing it right now….but if Novala gets to be Spring, then I want to be Autumn.
doing nothing.
having a job sucks.
D: I was thinking the same thing. But I could have listed the side effects *before* reading that list.
Novala: I’d say you’re doing a pretty good job.
Karan: what do you do?
cj: you posted a picture of a spleen on your blog once, didn’t you? that was cool.
j-a: i heard a story yesterday about a kid, about 23, who lives in a large apartment in the center of Vienna adjacent to his parents and does nothing, just lives off them and grows his dreadlocks and throws large parties and drinks their vintage wine when they leave town, and is lonely. doing nothing would require a special mindset, i think, but i also believe that we do far too little nothing in general. doing nothing is underrated.
Poet laureate of Tuvalu. I would write a poem about everyone, one poem for each of the 11 thousand and something citizens. It would take me the rest of my life. And by then, all of Tuvalu, all of the people, all of my poems and I would sink under the rising sea.
hrmmm. you said flatulence and D showed up. how odd is that?
my perfect job? in 5 days. 8 miles both ways … as opposed to 90 miles both ways. and learning new stuff. always good.
Retired novelist. The actual writing is hell, but I’d love to have written three great novels, and maybe, um, four mediocre ones.
Francis hit it right on the nose. Also whatever you’d call someone who rehashes earlier academic manuscripts for publication in the wake of the popularity of said novels.
I bet being a Nude Poetry Model would be fun, too.
Iron Chef Vegan.
Painkillers make me terribly depressed and give me crying spells.
I would like to be a self-sustaining homesteader or organic farmer. And maybe write books about it.
Cowgirl. But I have no cows.
i like my job but i would be happier if i got paid a bit more. i would like to work less hours but there’s that whole “need to eat” business. i was thinking it would be cool to be a professional blog reader but that might take some of the fun out of it.
i feel like i’ve written to you about this before: wouldn’t it be interesting to think of “noth” as a verb? then “what are you doing?” –“nothing”. and “who’s that guy with the dreadlocks who lives in vienna?” –“ah, he’s just a nother.”
That’s great. How did we live without that word?
‘nother’… ha ha ha…