I am qualified to help people. And be a racing hot dog.

This afternoon I opened my UWM e-mail account and found several messages, mostly just informing me that the “Rebuild the Party” group has sent me messages on Facebook and whatever, dude, I’m as Republican as the next girl, but stop sending me messages every five seconds. I get all excited when I see the little Inbox thing lit up and then it turns out it isn’t even a real person? Letdown. Now, yes, I suppose I could get some real friends and they could send me actual messages and then we’d all be happy, but please, Facebook, I don’t need your judgement.

The other two were from the Career Development Center and, I kid you not, possible job opportunities from the Peace Corps and the Brew Crew.

Apparently, my age and current education level qualify me to both contract malaria in some godforsaken swamp in Latin America and be a Klement’s sausage. Presumably not at the same time.

Now, the Peace Corps. Fine. Whatever. Good organization. You have my unwavering support. However. I’m less than certain that they would let me bring my flatiron and full compliment of eyeshadow with me. That would be a serious problem.

And while the Brewers would presumably let me wear eye makeup and I could straighten my hair before going in to work, I would have to be “energetic and extremely outgoing”. No word on whether I would have to know why they call them runs instead of points like everyone else in the world.

Also, I would have to be available to work at least forty games. Seriously? FORTY? There are that many? Don’t they get tired? No wonder they only hit the damn ball 30% of the time. God knows I couldn’t be energetic and extremely outgoing for that many games.

Finally, I would probably be required to do more than curl up with my iPod and a book during the games, which, as we all know, is how I prefer to experience baseball games.

So. I think we can safely cross both of those opportunities off of my list of possible careers. Wow. That list is getting really short.

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