On my journey to becoming a writer, I have had many jobs, some paid, some not.
The unpaid jobs began cleverly disguised as my being “a little helper.” I did household chores, which evolved, to lawn care specialist (grass cutter and weed puller.) Unpaid work was part and parcel of pulling my weight in my family. However, I did get a cool pair of Calvin Klein jeans and a pair of powder blue cat-eye prescription glasses- so there was that.
My paid jobs were just as diverse.
Once upon a time I was a health club supervisor, a waitress, a babysitter, a fast food server, a retail worker, an insurance claims adjuster, an exercise instructor, an adjunct college professor, a cable TV regional trainer, an NBA professional cheerleader, freelance journalist, a model, and backstage security. Those are just the ones I can spout off the top of my head, and not necessarily in chronological order.
In addition to all of those disparate jobs, I have been a full-time dreamer.
Always have and always will be. I live in my head. Yes, I have real-life friends. And yes, I have a tangible life complete with a husband, four children and pets. But now, through writing, I get to share the stories I imagine in my head with readers like you. I cannot thank you enough for that. I consider you part of my family. But I draw the line at scrubbing your bathroom or mowing your lawn. However, I could be talked into joining you for a glass of ice tea or a beer.