Work It!

I'm assuming most of my readers are like me in that they wouldn't cease employment somewhere just becuase they magically, mysteriously became independently wealthy. Let's face it: jobs give us a sense of purpose and place us in paths we wouldn't think of choosing to go down. (I would never have thought to talk to my grandparents about Medicare if I didn't see it so often in my line of work. And that was one of the best (longest) conversations I've had with my paternal grandfather.)

We all took those career aptitude tests in school. You know, the ones that tell you what jobs you'd be good at based on how you think. The one I took my sophomore year assigned letters to traits and would give you lists of jobs based on the pairings of your top 3. The system decided there weren't enough options to satisfy me with the pairings (because I guess I think that differently) so they put together triplets. That's really all I remember from it.

Other than that two of the suggestions were librarian and cab driver.

I'd like to be a cab driver, and here's why:
I like to drive.
I like efficiency.
I also like experiemnting with interesting ways.
If you give me an Omaha area address, 90% of the time I can tell you the nearest burger joint, grocery store, and major intersection. (I need some practice with the Bellevue area, though.)
I like maps. And I'm pretty good at reading them. (I used to kill time by opening an oversized atlas and pointing to a random place and figuring out how to get there.)
I listen to the traffic reports, despite there being really only one good way to get to work. Even if there were a slow down on that road, it would still be less congested than any of my alternate routes.
I have an excellent driving record. (Wasn't at fault in the one collision I've been in, and I only have 2 documented moving violations in 10 years, one of which had the fine waived because I took a traffic safety course.)
Most people find me easy to get along with.

About the only reservations are that I've lost my knack to maneouver (I might be able to parallel park between two cars if someone's life depended on it and I had all day) and I don't drive stick. (Something traumatic has preceded each intended lesson.)


Your turn: what's your "If I Were a Rich Man" job?
Thank you, and this message was heavily inspired by Karissa.