These are the essentials to an job that I created in my head. Some type of journalist slash blogger slash worker from the comfort of his basketball shorts with pockets. No commute, no tie, no shirt, no clock, no co-workers, yes leather couch.
Normal workdays would include some or all of the following. Semi healthy breakfast on the rolly chair, reading the newspaper comics or online news. No need to get up to put the dishes away, rolly chair accessible rooms and kitchen. Comfort of basketball short which would be washed every 2-3 days depending on the current average temperatures. Pockets would contain notes on napkins and that paper on the outside of water bottles. Notes would say things like "fuck the president" and "buy milk." I'd talk loud to myself and quite to other people. My attention span would be about a 4.3 on a scale from 1 to 14. Here is a picture of a bidet full of beer.
I'd be able to write/blog/journal about any topic that interested me. Except on Wednesdays I'd have a ongoing column about activities I do to prevent boredom and or heart attacks. This column would have to be done before 10pm each Wednesday including holidays. Procrastination wouldn't be an issue because of my ample amount of free time during the week. My journals would be scattered across the board on topic choice and writing tone; they would directly reflect my mood. I'd spend approximately 4-8 hours doing "work" related tasks, writing, thinking, brainstorming, interpretive dance, murmuring, etc. The remainder of the day I would be able to spend on personal tasks such as: exercise and practice strangling other adults, fishing, cooking, shooting balled up pieces of paper into a small trash basket, and browsing the inter-web.
The puppy would be named after some person in history that invented some arbitrary object such as Johann Verheem inventor of the shake weight, or George Washington Carver inventor of peanut butter. The leather couch would be for naps, thinking, and reading. I would have also have a permanent subtly red square on my thighs from where the heat from my laptop gives me .5 degree burns. I'd address this problem and begin doing my writing a portable computer stand. The .5 degree burns would heal over time and redness would reduce.
I'd drive a '92 Toyota Tercel with fading green paint and a fully functional air conditioner, it would get 300 miles to the gallon. Showering and grooming habits would be normal. The work area would be clean and on nice days I'd write out doors stealing WiFi from some unsuspecting neighbor. Pay would be average initially but would increase when my column gained popularity amongst a Saudi Arabian royal family who find my words insightful and fully entertaining. They would double my salary in order to have all journals and blogs sent directly to their royal palace.
