So What Do You Do for a Living?

The question most people will ask when they’re trying to get to know you and you’re all adults is what you do for a living. Unless it’s competitive gambler or mall Santa, the response is usually pretty lame. Let’s face it. Most jobs suck and sharing what you do devalues who you are.

I work in a dog care facility which for many Filipinos is such a foreign idea they can’t even fathom up a follow-up question to it. They come from a country where stray dogs are all over the place like any undomesticated animal. A dog going to school is like putting a dress on a giraffe.

Dogs are not treated as nicely in the Philippines as they are in the United States. I’m not even sure some people in the United States are treated as nicely as animals are. We love fluffy things unless they walk on two legs and ask that you call them Bert. While many Filipinos do like dogs they don’t have daycares to run around and play at. The whole concept is almost as silly as Jenny telling me rice is a common breakfast food.

Thankfully because I have such a strange job the Philippines will probably never add, I never had to answer this question. Maybe one person asked something like this and I simply said I worked with dogs. I’ll always keep it vague. I like letting their imagination run wild. Do I train dogs? Do I pick up their dead carcasses on the side of the road? Let’s leave it all up to them to decide.

Basically me at work except there’s no computer or wealthy people that need comforting.

There are certain questions I hate getting asked and one is about what I do for a living. I breathe, eat, and sleep to live, does that count?

Other questions I don’t like are about how work is going, the weather, or how my parents are doing. The last is the worst because then I have to say my mom is dead then do a whole lot of damage control to let them know it was a reasonable assumption that she was still alive based on my age. This, among many other things, is a reason why I don’t like socializing.

I also don’t like people asking what I do for a living because it makes me feel like that is all I am. This is a pipedream, really, to have a job where it encompasses your entire being and justifies your existence. I would love to write full-time and tell people I’m a writer. This is a sexy job because everyone knows exactly what it is yet can’t really comprehend unless they do it themselves. Most people can write. Doing it well and getting paid for it is the tricky part and what makes it special.

Until I get a more universally understood job I’ll be able to avoid a lot of questions. Dog socialization is too strange of a concept that when you’re an adult and you learn its existence you can’t really follow-up with a question other than “Huh?”

I like this. It might even be my favorite thing about the job. Knowing I do something that the new side of my family thinks is ridiculous and unnecessary gives me a sense of ease. When the apocalypse happens, my job is pretty much the first to go. There’s no explaining to them the idea behind it because it’s a foreign language saying a German Shepherd has a social life with friends.

Now if these were roosters instead of dogs, we might have to talk a bit more.

A black cock joke here is beneath me; which is much better than being inside of me.