7and8

Parking Cars, darning socks, bussing tables, 'enforcement' and hair farm for wig mfg. came up but we weren't excited enough about any of these.

I thought again about the dog poo pick up business and pumping septic tanks, but I hear the pay is $#!t.

Given the new governmental administration perhaps the time is now to be a tire gauge man.

I'd get a huge kick out of smacking the rude cashiers at Stop&Shop around.

A comedian suggested working at the suicide hotline.  But what if I wanted to call off work because I was feeling a little down?

When I was a teen my mother hinted heavily that I was headed for ditch digging or gas pumping.  I could revisit that pie-in-the-sky dream.

My inventions haven't taken off yet either.  Backlit furniture with spring loaded drawers are the wave of the future but I don't think Ethan Allen will be sending me a check anytime soon.

I could play the lottery but then I'm funding schools and Lord knows I don't need any more 'appropriately qualified' competition in the workforce.

I'll have more time to think about it after we cancel cable and our magazine subscriptions.  I'm off to steal the neighbor's paper to look and see who needs organ donors and then burn the paper to destroy my malfeasance and keep the heat oil bill down.