I WANT TO BE A PROSTITUTE

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“I’m sick of my job! I’m sick of working late nights to please someone else. I’m sick of not getting recognition for the good work I’m doing. I want a promotion. but for that I have to get extra education! Like I can afford that! I need a new job. No i wanna change fields. go into something exciting. that makes me smile everyday, after every task.”

My sister listened to me drone on and on.  Getting louder and more frustrated with every word.  “What do you want to be and why?” she asked. I smiled and yelled:

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I WANT TO BE A PROSTITUTE!

flexible, short, awesomely billable hours.

I WANT TO BE A PROSTITUTE!

job satisfaction. easily measurable customer satisfaction. wallet satisfaction

I WANT TO BE A PROSTITUTE!

no extra qualifications required. no need for expensive higher education.

She smiled again. Reminded me vaguely the grin of the Chesshire Cat in Alice in Wonderland. “So if you became a prostitute, you’d stop complaining about work??” I answered:

I WANT TO BE A PROSTITUTE!

but i want to be able to turn away some clients. Its hard to fake it sometimes.

I WANT TO BE A PROSTITUTE!

but I only want to work when I’m not married. I don’t want my husband feeling like my job takes over.

I WANT TO BE A PROSTITUTE!

but I don’t like feeling used.

I WANT TO BE A PROSTITUTE!

but I don’t wanna kiss someone’s ass! I do enough of that at my current job!

I looked at her and smiled! Thank God i’m not a prostitute

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