The Back-up Plan

So for all of you who are worried/anxious/concerned/curious/feeling noncommittally nosy about my future, I'm still up in the air about jobs, but I have a couple of good leads. I've interviewed for a position at the Ensign, and I've passed the pre-qualification screening for a job with this market research company. The latter is a big relief, because now I know that my resume is getting out there, that people are actually looking at it, and that my coworkers weren't just being nice when they said I was employable.

Other than that, I'm making plans to keep me busy once my internship ends this week. If the situation gets desperate, I may pick up a part-time job at the local grocery store or something to hold me over and occupy my time until something better comes along.

Incidentally, I have a secret fear that I'll be job-hunting and job-hunting and suddenly, 25 years down the road, I'll realize that I'm that little cashier who's been there longer than the last three bosses, because I never could get out of the rut. I don't want to be that person with the brilliant education who ends up running the local ChipperCheaper. (See? I even have a name for it! I'm doomed!)

I'm kidding. Well, kind of. I am afraid of it, but I'm pretty sure the Lord has something more in store for me than just trying to make someone's day better when they've discovered that they've massively overspent their budget and feel like it's my fault because the store I work at is so tempting. (Don't smirk. I've had that happen to me, back in the days of my high school cashiering.)

Plus, I have a backup plan---formulated 10 seconds ago, but foolproof nonetheless: If I'm not going to be an editor, I'll be a cashier moonlighting as a book editor and as an MBA student until I know enough about business to start my own publishing company and bid farewell to my cashier-y friends. No rut for me, goshdarnit.

OR!

I'll stalk all of the author conventions (still a cashier moonlighting as an editor) until I find that one author who will be the next J. K. Rowling (which hasn't been done yet, by the way). Then, said Rising Star Author will be so grateful to me for my invaluable editorial advice, that she'll take me with her in her rising fame and suddenly all of the publishing companies will be falling all over themselves trying to hire me. And I'll start my own business anyways. Yep. That's a foolproof plan.

So maybe that's melodramatic. In all likelihood, I won't get stuck for 25 years as the Target cashier. Nor is it really all that likely that I'll need to moonlight as an editor (like a superhero for the book world: I'd be the Batman of Books) behind everyone's backs until I'm brilliant enough to start my own company. I may end up going after an MBA or a Master's degree in publishing, but I haven't felt the push to do that quite yet---just the "keep it in mind" feeling, like maybe it'll be important someday.

But I suppose I should get my Batman-style cape of parchment pages and my utility belt containing red pens, sticky notes, the Chicago Manual of Style (magically shrunk to fit on a belt, of course), thesaurus/dictionary, and paper-clip-grappling hook ready, just in case. You never know when a poor little novel will need the aid of Bookworman to sweep in and rescue it. Yes, I made up that name. Yes, it's a combination of bookworm and woman. No, you can't steal it. It's mine.

So please excuse me. I have to go assemble my paper-clip grappling hook now. And assemble my lair. And make sure Batman can't kill me for ripping off his idea. If he does, I suppose that solves my whole looking-for-employment problem.

Bingo: another foolproof back-up plan.