Jobs.

Over this past weekend,  I was given the opportunity to write as a contributor for this awesome website.  So I thought to myself "well I guess now I am somewhat of a professional writer.  I mean, I am getting paid to write, right?  That is professional  Hooray for me!"  And then of course I realized that I still have my day job. I am not a professional writer- I don't do it for a living!  Boo!  And then I figured I could certainly still call myself a writer.  In fact, there are a whole host of "careers" that people claim without any kind of verification at all!  I thought I would share some of them here.


Writer: Obviously I fall tidily into this category.  I mean, I "write for" this BS blog- I generously probably have 5 "readers" of my "work" (excuse the heavy-handedness with the quotes) but...well I write things.  I am a writer.  Well, a blogger, but that's just semantics. Technically, anyone who can use a keyboard, and some who can't (I am looking in your direction, Steven Hawking) can call themselves a writer.  Hell, it's not like Blogspot gave me an entrance exam before granting me this little corner of the internet.  Even you could become a writer!  Or...well "writer".

Actor: Anyone who ever waited tables works with an actor.  They could have never attended an audition let alone been cast in anything, but they consider themselves an "actor".  Waiting tables, making coffee, washing dishes--that's just their day job.  When the sun goes down and the apron comes off, then, and only then, do they become their true self.  Like a vampire.  Or a werewolf.

Singer/Musician: I am totally guilty of this one, too.  I had a brief stint singing at a bar in Montana, and was pretty sure I was a rock star after that.  Literally tens of people would turn out to hear me sing.  In my defense, though, it was a town of 550 people. If 15 people showed up, it was the statistical equivalent of a 60,000 person concert in Chicago.  That's just math.  Anyway, anyone who can carry a tune at drunken Tuesday night karaoke fancies themselves a singer, and the popularity of American Idol, The Voice, America's Got Talent, and Who Wants To Triple-Barrel Curl Their Hair And Wear Sparkly Jeans have not helped the situation.  The "musician" title I am willing to give a little leeway to.  If you can legitimately play guitar or piano or drums (unless it is only bongos.  In which case, get back to the drum circle, hippie) I will give you the musician title.  Why do I allow this title and not the others?  Well one reason is you need to have actually studied something to be able to play the piano, and the other is that this is my damn blog and I make the rules.

Artist: I am going to be honest here.  I am not a huge art fan.  I mean I am in as much as anyone appreciates art.  Just as often as not I have a hard time getting on board with Modern Art.  I have seen people draw/paint/sculpt things that I genuinely enjoy and appreciate, and things that I don't enjoy because I know they are making a point about the frivolity of man or something- that I get.  But when I was in New York I went to the MoMA and saw a giant 8' by 8' canvas and the top half was black and the bottom half was white and I thought "....no I do not get this at all".  So my point is, anyone can spill some paint on a canvas and throw a frame on it and say "this represents how I feel about my mother.  That will be $50,000."


So there it is.  4 jobs that anyone can claim to have.  Now go to the bar and try to impress some chicks!

Broke.

I currently work for a major newspaper in Chicago.  On the surface, this is an ideal place for me to be "kicking off my career".  That being said, I am just about the lowest man on the totem pole (which I know is a misleading idiom because of Stuff You Should Know) and field phone calls from crazies across our great nation.  I also make $12/hr.  That means I make roughly $25K per year.  This is not very much money.  Like, at all.  So I am trying to tough it out and move up within the company, but because of my insatiable hunger for 2 meals a day every single day (I know, what a greedy brat I am), I keep my eyes peeled for other opportunities. Recently, a friend said she might be able to get me a jr underwriter gig at a bank that could pay as much as $40K.  That is like Scrooge McDuck swimming in his vault of gold coins money, friends.  I would probably gold-plate my Ikea stools with that kind of dough.
So anyway, I told a trusted family member about this, and her reaction was "NO you don't want to be a banker!  You want to work in publishing, stay where you're at!  Don't get hung up on dollar signs".
This got me pondering exactly how broke I am, and what I would do to not be as broke.
I would like to provide some real life broke stories/anecdotes:
-3 weeks ago, I went to the market to buy butter and had to check my bank account as to not overdraw.
-My boyfriend needed a loaner phone because his phone crapped out on him.  It was a $54 deposit.  He had $51.
-Before I was able to purchase the $86 unlimited rides on the CTA, I did the pay-as-you-go plan.  I would always have my earbuds in and sloppily tap my card when i got on the bus in hope that it wouldn't read right and then pretend I couldn't hear the driver when he asked me to try again.  $2.25 in my pocket!
-I ration tampons.
-I pound out chicken breasts so I can fool myself into eating less food because it looks bigger.
-I steal creamers from the cafeteria in my building so I don't have to buy it (It's not technically stealing--they're giving them away.  I just don't think they expect me to take 10)
-Every month when it comes  time to pay rent, I consider selling my guitar.  You know in old cartoons when starving people look at their dog or whatever and it turns into a big pile of steaks?  That's how my guitar looks but with money.  I love my guitar.  His name is Simon.
-I am pretty good at dividing the ABV by the price when selecting beer.
-I have started to fool myself into enjoying ramen.
-I keep a box of wine at my house.  I won't give up wine, no matter how broke.  You can't take wine away from me, universe!

So all that being said, yes I would love to stay at this job, but I also would like to leave my apartment to enter the public sphere and not feel immensely guilty if I get myself a burger and a beer once in a while.  Maybe it's going to be a moot point and the opportunity won't pan out, but if it does... I mean, I have bought myself 1 pair of shoes in the last 2 years.  I would like something nice someday.