Unqualified

As a stay-at-home mom, housewife, or as I like to call it, professional slave, I'm getting pretty sick of being underestimated. I'm an intelligent woman. Even at the ripe old age of pushing 40, I still have an abundance of potential. I'm smoking hot, if I do say so myself. And I do fucking say so. These extra pounds do nothing to detract from my inner bombshell. Fuck you if you think otherwise.

Why is it that people think that just because I haven't worked outside my home for several years now, I have nothing to offer?

To be honest, I have little desire to work for someone. I despise being told what to do, but as long as I'm treated with dignity and respect and I'm being paid, I can be a team player...for a little while. All I want is a part-time job paying decent money working somewhere between 9 am and 2 pm, so I can bring in a little extra while I'm waiting for someone to discover that I possess writing ability and talent and offer me millions of dollars to do something I love. Izzat too mush to ass? Sorry, I didn't realize that typed words can slur, too, when you drink too much.

For years I have worked several work-from-home, start-your-own-business, I-can't-believe-people-are-too-lazy-to-do-this-shit-themselves types of gigs. That means, I haven't been unemployed, I just don't work for others. Apparently, that renders me unqualified to work with people outside of my house.

I applied for a part-time job with McCormick. You know, the spice people.

This job was working 10 am-1 pm, Monday thru Friday as a taste tester for $12/hour. Are you freaking kidding me? You're going to pay me to taste food for three hours a day? I thought that shit was awesomeness dipped in chocolate with a side of Idris Elba. I had to send an email to some staffing company begging for the opportunity to apply. Then I had to fill out a long ass questionnaire about my food preferences, diet, willingness to taste unpleasant foods, name, rank, serial number, blood type, dress size and date I lost my virginity (November 12, 1988 if you're interested). Finally, I had to wait on pins and needles for their approval of me. It never came. They said I was unqualified.

Now, I don't offend easily, but if you want to know what 'useless' feels like, just let someone tell you you're not qualified to taste food. I don't even know what the hell to say about that. Am I also not qualified to walk? Breathe? Blink my eyes? This was a 'no experience necessary' job, but they were going to provide training. Who the fuck doesn't know how to eat? They could hire a toddler and still get an accurate account of whether something tastes good or not. It seems to me that they would have taken the first eight people who showed up clean, well-groomed, and literate.

But they're not taking me. Because I'm unqualified.

That fucking sucks.

This is my official boycott of McCormick spices. It's nothing but Spice Classics from here on out. Pardon me while I cry my poor, useless heart out. :(