Chimney Sweep, Crocodile Wranger, Rodeo Clown

After a two-week break, the re-entry into the classroom was turbulent. I had had a fantasy that my fourth graders would spend their vacation days thinking about how their behavior affected others, what they could do to make the classroom more positive, and in what ways they might be more respectful to me.

Nerp.

By lunchtime, I was asking Facebook for career suggestions.

My sister offered astronaut. I’m getting kinda squirrelly about flying in my old age, and that’s just between RDU and Laguardia. A trip to the International Space Station might make me a little wheezy.

Some friends wondered about my being a professional dog rescuer or dog-sitter. Those I could go for…Do they come with health insurance?

Suzanne mentioned pole dancer. Well…I mean, that requires a lot of upper-body strength, doesn’t it? Also, I forget, how do strip joints feel about hip-to-knee cellulite?

Are they pro- or anti-?

Anti-, right?

Moving on.

Though I really like Steve’s recommendation that I become a guru-on-a-mountaintop, that sounds like I’d have to be, you know, wise or something, so I think my sister-in-law had the best idea: bajillionaire.

Now all I need is one bajillion dollars. Pony up, folks.

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