HIRE ME! Or please let me be productive.

My first paying job was when I was 16, literally 3 days after my 16th birthday, I got a job. I worked in an ice cream shop known for a specific number of flavors. I made sundaes, doled out ice cream scoops, and learned how to count change back. Since then, I have not had a break from employment until now. Monday, I lost my job.

When I say no break from employment, I mean all through high school and college I worked full-time, sometimes two jobs to pay for a degree. I worked full-time through graduate school to pay for my lab fees, books, and research needs. Mom and dad have shallow pockets and the lesson taught was, if you want something bad enough, you will work for it.

At 34, I am not reacting any differently. Upon cleaning out my office, dropping an email account from cell phone and brief call to wallow with mom, I was on the job hunt before noon. Presently, I will return to my early teenage roots of retail. While an extreme diversion from my present day, it is still employent.

When I started college, I had the hopes that one day I would become an English professor mostly because of my love of reading. My house is filled with novels, novellas, poetry, and such. I could discuss literature all day. One afternoon after a British Literature course, the professor listened to me idolize his career while sitting in his cluttered office. There, sitting across from me in his bow tie, navy wool jacket, and pressed kahki's, he said, "You do not want this Melinda, you are meant to work with people." Even when I protested expressing how interacting with students was being with people, he shared a darker side of university that included things like tenure review, demands of research, seeking funding for a department. He said, "you will teach one hour a day and work the rest to save your job."

While some people are content with a job, I need passion. I need to be around people. I need to be around like minded people who enjoy reading, discussing the world, and generally enjoy positivity. The world has changed much since the completion of my first degree in 2001. Often now, people work jobs they cannot stand, tolerate employer abuse and compromise their integrity as a person.

I promise you that even working in a consignment store, I will take it seriously, work with care. I mean, I get to talk to women about fashion. How can that be a bad thing? Will it pay my bills? No, but I will work as hard or harder than I need to take care of myself. There is no room to be a victim or cry a river for myself. Instead, its onward and upward. I'm never going to be in Forbes magazine but if you are a woman and need assistance putting together something classy for an evening out...I can point you in the right direction.