Diary of the perfect job

Over the past couple of months, I’ve had a lot of spare time to reflect on my life and really think about what it is I want to do with it. If money were no object, what would I want to spend the rest of my days doing?

Well for me the answer has always been there, lurking beneath the surface. So yesterday I looked over at my husband and declared, “I want to find a job petting kittens all day. Twenty dollars an hour to pet kittens all day.”

He smiled and replied, "Why would you do that when there's a job listed right here cutting the heads off live turkeys?" He then informed me that live turkey killers are required to attend counseling every three months, which I did not know.

That’s a very interesting thought considering that all they do is kill, day in and day out. I guess that would take its toll on a person. Can you imagine that particular counseling session? Geez, this was my DREAM. All I ever wanted to be was an executioner. Where did it all go wrong?

OK wow I'm off the subject.

Anyway, while I was basking in the idea of petting kittens all day, something else occurred to me. After a while, wouldn’t even petting kittens get a little old? I bet in the kitten business there are probably politics just like with every other job. Just imagine...

Dear Diary,

Sweet Kitten.jpg

Week 1

Wow! This is the best job I've ever had! I am the luckiest person alive! I can't believe they pay me twenty dollars an hour to pet FUZZY KITTENS! They are so adorable and sweet. I could never ask for a better situation. I will retire from here. I'm setting up my 401k today! I'm so excited. All the cats love me, and I love them. My life is finally perfect. I would do this for free. I can't wipe the smile off my face.


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Week 2

What a great job! I really can't believe my luck. I'm getting to know all the cats better, what they do and don't like, whose stomach you can touch and who will hand you back a nub. You know, it's a learning experience for sure. But I am so lucky and this is great! My paycheck was amazing. They don't provide Neosporin here, but God knows I get paid enough; I'll just drop by CVS on my way home.


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Week 3

I'm so happy. Really I am. Yep...I love this place. Having some issues with this cat named Oscar, but otherwise things are going fairly well. Apparently I'm showing favoritism, or so they alleged in my beginner evaluation. I don't see it, but whatever. I like them all the same, and I'm sure I’m not showing preference. But I will just have to be more careful of it is all. Just a bad week; things will be better I'm sure. How can they not be? I'm PETTING KITTENS ALL DAY BITCHES!


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Week 4

Going great still. Can an online diary get me in trouble at work? Just asking, because I need to vent. That little bastard Oscar set me up. He's turned half the cats against me, and the rest are wondering if they can trust me. Oscar is saying I'm spreading ringworm, so nobody wants to come near me. I'm sure I got it from his fat ass the first week anyway. He's a nasty little bastard. And since my insurance hasn't kicked in yet, I had to spend $200 at the doctor’s office trying to get this shit cleared up. OH - and they're docking my pay because all the cats have to be treated now. I think it's bullshit, but this is still one of the best jobs I've ever had. Maybe if I just reach out to Oscar we can clear this whole mess up.


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Week 5

Turns out Oscar's a real piece of shit. I'll tell you that much. I need a fucking raise if they expect me to put up with all this crap. I'm down to only three cats who will associate with me, and probably only because none of the other cats like them. But it's a blessing to know who my true friends are. I'm sure Tripod, the three legged one, is my BFF to the end. We're tight. I know I shouldn't complain. No job is perfect. I'll hang in there and everything will be better soon! I just know it!


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Week 6

Fuck this place!!! Fuck Oscar, and all the rest of the little bastards! I did not, I REPEAT DID NOT, shit in the litter box as accused. I know it was a big one, but that could have easily come out of Oscar. And just why would I do that anyway? Management doesn't believe me. They've installed cameras and are saying they are investigating alleged 'abuses'. WHAT?!

So I'm on a ninety day probation period now. They say there must be some element of truth to it because, as it stands, it's all thirty cats against me. I HATE THEM ALL. I would quit, but my lawyer says that would be almost like an admission of guilt. And no thanks to Tripod either. The little Judas Iscariot just continued licking his ass when they asked if anyone would speak on my behalf. God give me strength.

Six weeks later.....

I know it's been awhile since my last entry. I just came out of the coma, and I'm encouraged by the fact that I still have my writing arm. I don't remember much of the attack, but I hear the video has hit YouTube. Friends and family insist I don't want to see it.

Apparently it all started when I slipped on some cat food. Once I was down they made their move. I never saw it coming. I'm told I'll need skin grafts for the flesh on my thigh that was eaten away, but it will probably never look normal again. I'm not one to wear shorts that much anyway.

I guess I should be happy justice has finally been served. All the accused were justly dealt with, because apparently once they get the taste of human flesh they can never be rehabilitated. Oscar was, of course, the overlord.

Being the optimist I am, the lawsuit will provide for me the rest of my life. And isn't the perfect job really just being able to stay home? I'm so excited. I just know everything will be perfect! I get to watch soaps all day, eat snacks and just do any damn thing I want. Now that, my friends, is the perfect job.

P.S. OH, and I'm getting a dog!!! Turns out the government provides dogs for those with disabilities such as mine. He's going to pull me all over town on that skateboard the hospital issued me. We're going to be best friends! You'll see.