Professional Couch Potato

That’s what I’ve decided the first line of my resumé will say. Followed by “Will become motivated if you pretend what you need me to do is something really exciting OR if you give me anything with an excessive amount of sugar.”

After saying in my last post that I wanted to do things that made a difference or whatever, I spent all day Sunday trying to boost my Sims’ careers so that I could create a dream home for them. And when I say I spent all day doing that, I’m not exaggerating. I lost a whole pound because I forgot to eat.

For someone so adamant about making a difference, I really need a push.

Yesterday was a little better, I got to yell at people twice my age on a conference call meeting. It’s fun being an intern who’s the youngest in the office by about 11 years.

 

And today I got really emotional and cried to my boss over a logo design that I created after she told me that she loved it, she just needed me to resize some words. I watched a guy get arrested at Walmart. I saved a dog.

You know, your typical work day.

I’ve finally decided what I really want to do with my life: I want to create my own business. I love being in leadership positions, I love the thought of being my own boss and creating my own hours.

What will my business sell?

No clue.

See, the thing is, I was blessed with artistic ability. Am I a great artist? No. Am I good enough? Eh.

However, I lack in the creativity department. I can look at designs from other people and replicate them. That basically means that I can draw straight lines. But I have a hard time coming up with my own unique design. If someone tells me what to make, I can make it.

If you told me to draw you a bear, I’d draw you a bear. If you said “never mind, draw whatever you want,” I’d put a hat on the bear.

It’s as if I only come up with good ideas after they’ve already been created. Like, I made up the concept of FaceTime. Except, I came up with it right after I used the FaceTime app for the first time. Someone once told me things just don’t really work that way.

I guess that’s why this blog is good for me. I don’t have to come up with posts like “42 ways to know if your shoelaces are lying to you,” I can just write about my day and pretend like people are reading about it.

But if you’re reading this, hey. I like you. I hope you laughed at the shoelaces joke.