Over the weekend I spent some time in Alex contemplating my Plan Bs Cs and Ds for my career. It's always a good thing to have.
It’s also a good way to escape from having to make some serious decisions – which, if ever selected to be an Olympic sport, I’d be the Michael Phelps of. (Minus the bong… ok who am I kidding, bring on the bongs)
One option was to just move back home come September and put an end to my big city adventures. Can't be that bad huh? And then I could pick a new line of work and start from scratch again, perhaps wait out this economic shit till things we better and I can execute my "get the f outta here" (GTFOH) plan.
The other option was to explore the marriage for club membership option. Just like people get paid to marry people and keep them in the country, in Egypt that can be done to give your club membership to someone. But after some pondering I decided to make that Plan Z - stuck in prison, need bail money type situation.
Then I thought maybe I should explore my sitcom writer dream. I am so prepared to stick it out being some writer’s beeatch for some time - get coffees, pick up dry cleaning and basically eat shit so I can at some point write some funny sarcastic scripts. Instead of the MBA I’m beating myself about I could just apply for another program that qualifies me to do that. There has to be some sit-com writing course somewhere. And competition can't be that fierce, I mean how many people grow up thinking they want to become sit-com writers. It seems like something someone would settle to after failing to become a stand-up comedian or a novel writer or a movie script writer....
I'll call that plan D....
I didn’t come around to a viable Plan B or C…. And here’s why! An Olympic Gold Medalist in Decision Evasion doesn’t become a gold medalist by making viable plans that can work out eventually. That is for losers!
Next weekend, I’ll try and brain storm reasons why my Plan A can't be all that bad..
Till then....It's Sunday - definitely not Funday!
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