get a weird job!
if one more person tell my they're a consultant i'm going to commit a capital offense
Oh, you work for Salesforce? Do you want a medal? You’re the chief data officer at a fortune 500 hundred company—I’m sorry your mother didn’t hug you enough as a child. You’re a consultant—I need you to get out of my house immediately.
You’re a business analyst, senior advanced multi media projectionist, emergency network liaison, IT Technician in charge of email, supreme editor of finance, you work in sales, marketing, you have a lot of different clients, you work to meet their needs.
Enough of this—get a weird job.
No more made up titles like “executive director of brand management” thats a nonsensical series of words. You might as well be a “ballerina plumber of unicorn mountain.” No more project managers, no more accountants, and dear God no more content creators.
Get a weird job! Become a bicycle repair person, bookbinder, an sheep wrangler, an ass model, Levi jeans designer. Drive a tractor, operate heavy machinery. Be a construction worker, a window washer, pour concrete out of one of those big rolling machines. Become a scientist and work in a lab to create different kinds of concrete. Mix chemicals together and see if you can make anything explode. Be the person in charge of painting store windows at Christmas. Work in a Christmas village and be in charge of making fake snow. Work as a mall Santa, a mall elf, a mall Mrs. Claus, a mall perfume spritzer.
Become a video game model, create tiny miniatures of crime scenes. Write an erotic fanfic of your favorite book series and monetize it. Write smut. Become a professional reviewer of smut literature. Become a photographer of the front covers of smut based literature books.
Be a socialite, a dilettante, a muse. A lineman for the county, a train robber, a highwayman, a sailor, a dam builder, fly a goddamn starship across the universe divide!
You could be a dental hygienist. That’s a weird job. It’s weird to like teeth so much that you get paid to clean them. You can be an epidemiologist, an ethnomusicologist, a bibliolgist, a teen TV apologist. Follow a band on tour, be a groupie, a roadie, a sound technician or lighting specialist.
You can be a flight attendant—this is a weird job! You are waitress in the sky and emergency response worker all rolled into one. Be a firefighter, an EMT, a grave digger, a county surveyor, a deep sea fisherman, a person who installs air ducts inside buildings. Be a roofer, an HVAC specialist, be the person that goes inside peoples crawlspaces to see whats going on. Be a seed cultivator, a cross pollinator, learn three different languages and learn how to talk to bees. Work at a scrap yard and man the machine where the cars get crushed into a smooth strip of metal. Work in a canal and direct boat traffic, work on a runway at the airport and wave glowing sticks around to direct airplanes.1 Do anything where you work with your hands, bonus points if its also outside.
Politician is a weird job, but it’s almost too weird. People have to vote for you for you to get hired? They can only vote on certain days every certain number of years and you can say whatever you want to get them to vote for you? And then once you’re hired, you’re whole thing is making them want to hire you again. Certain jobs have intentions that are too weird for them to be fully trusted2.
I have a weird job. I love having a weird job. I like that I work on a boat. I like that I get to walk down a gangway to get to work everyday. I like that my coworkers are deckhands and captains, that I get to refer to pilothouses and galleys. That I can lean my body off the side over the aft or stern, that I can use port and starboard, talk about casting lines and shore power.
I like that if I’m late to work, my job takes off without me.
People tell you that you must have a normal job. People are wrong. The most sane people I know got better grades then me in school, went to colleges I could never have gotten into and graduated with degrees higher then mine.
They all got jobs where they go to work from 9-5, or 8-4, or 7-3. They sit at desks and enter enter little numbers into tiny boxes on a computer. They will do this so they can collect paychecks, go to company sponsored happy hours, and post the same photos of these events on social media. They will buy the same clothes, and then the same kinds of houses. They will design these houses using the latest fads. They will marry the same kinds of boys and girls, they will have two to three children and name them all Stacy, Abigail, Michael, Zachary, Sean, Elizabeth, Claire and Grace.
They will tell this how you have to do things. That this is the way to make enough money to live. This is how you make enough money to have a full life, a happy life, a perfect life, a meaningful life.
They are lying to you.
Perfect formulas for things only exist in science and math, inhuman and intangible things. There is no perfect formula for things that concern real people, for things that concern how we live our lives and spend our time. Fuck whatever else they say, have some fun, get a weird job.
“Substacker” is, for the record, a weird job. Weird jobs can be annoying jobs, unfortunately. If you want to support me and my weird jobs. Subscribe, share, like and maybe even pledge.
what is this called again?
See again: content creator and also reality TV star