When I was an Artist of Sandwiches

When I was a teenager, I worked at Subway, home of the  5 Dolla foot loonngggs.  After the probationary period, I got an official name tag that read “Sandwich Artist.” A proud day. The correct order of condiments goes: lettuce, tomatoes, pickles, green peppers, black olives. Hot peppers, salt n peppa (shake it good!), mayo,…

So what do you want to do with your life?

*echo*your life, your life, your life??? *echo* Ah, the National Certification Exam.  For a potentially certified  massage therapist, it is the test of all tests.  No matter how good one is with their hands, it all comes down to the comprehension and memorization of detailed anatomy and physiology.   Suprise, surprise:  we don’t sit around and…

stress

“What does he do?”  “Oh, he’s lots of different stuff.”  “Like what?”  “He’s an artist.”  “He’s unemployed?”  *silence*  “Yeah.”  –actual conversation between Simone and I, 2006 I’ve always aspired to be a writer; I’ve written for enjoyment since elementary school.  I love it, plus I’m good at it.   Most of all:   writing is safe.  There’s nobody…