This New Job is Making Me so Emo, I Could Cry
In less than one week, I will show up to an office with lots of cubicles and paid time off for its employees, a Human Resources Department and company-wide team building events. This is a full-time gig. It’s a W2 kind of gig. I haven’t had a gig like this in almost seven years. And I’m looking forward to it in the way 16-year-old David looked forward to going on a date with that girl who finally showed some interest in him. And I’m an emotional goddamn wreck over the whole thing.
Being an escort for me was like being a scrapbooker on Etsy for most other single moms trying to pick up some extra money. The only difference was that I could make a few thousand bucks for one hour of potential discomfort versus making a few hundred for several hours of suffering through handmade clip art. I’m a pretty open-minded person, but I cannot for one second believe that there is any joy in being hunched over a desk, cutting and pasting other people’s memories together. It seems so lonely and juvenile.