Seven And A Half Cents

There are certain careers that would suit me far better than the career I have actually chosen. I’m not sure whether photography is on this list. The world has been atypically kind over the past few days and has presented me with not one but two random run-ins with photographers. D and I met one outside our apartment late on Saturday night. Our quest for pineapple juice to quench our thirst for mixed drinks was interrupted by a downpour, hence we found ourselves beneath the awning of our neighborhood convenience store. There we met a photographer who was protecting herself and her camera from the rain while covering someone’s having jumped (been thrown?) from a building on our block. Ah, insight. She complained about being a press photographer but it didn’t seem terribly unappealing to me. The guy who stopped by our apartment last night to buy the wheels D had posted on Craigslist was also a photographer! He stayed for about a half an hour answering questions, giving advice, being far too kind for a New Yorker. I still don’t know whether or not I’d be a good photographer, but I’m fairly certain that I will at the very least try to be one, good or bad.

I know, however, that I would be good at professionally organizing closets.

Or, for that matter, professionally organizing anything. I could manage projects. Or I could be an efficiency expert.

Or, perhaps, on a related tip, I could be the head of a worker’s union, because lately I have been outraged by the way that certain workers of certain capacities have been being treated. I’ve taken to doing unnecessary calculations to prove my points, and my views tend to be contagious, even though I don’t mean for them to be. I’ve been honest with my voice slightly raised, and people are listening. Perhaps I should speak louder as I am far more passionate about this sort of thing than I am about my actual job.

How are you supposed to know what you are good at when you are 18 years old?

The photographer last night said that he was the youngest one in his graduate program, and he was 26 years old. He said “All of my friends whose bands are actually successful are in their 30’s, because they’re serious.”

Why is everything so daunting when you are 30 years old?