“Future Aunt Considers Blowing Future Nephew’s College Fund on Pizza. Concludes Financial Hardship will Decrease Likelihood of Nephew Growing up to be a Douchebag.”

In case anyone is keeping score, it’s been nearly 9 months since I graduated from college and I have yet to nab the elusive “full-time job”.

It’s the oldest story in the book: Girl meets Potential Job online. Girl puts herself out there and Potential Job expresses interest in getting to know her. Girl gets excited— she even practices answers to would-be questions in the mirror the night before their first IRL meeting. The day they’re set to meet, Girl gets all dolled up and the anticipation builds. Potential Job and Girl finally meet. They exchange pleasantries and get to know one another. Girl thinks it’s going well. Potential Job offers a promising future and seems to appreciate Girl’s willingness to do “anything.” Potential Job agrees to stay in touch. Girl feels butterflies in her stomach (She thinks this might be the one!).

A few days later, Girl finds out Potential Job just isn’t that into her. Potential Job had other people on rotation all along and Girl just didn’t make the cut. Girl nurses her wounds over beer or ice cream— and sometimes even beer ice cream.

So what has Girl been doing, assuming Girl is not a trust fund baby and has not been enlisting the aid of a sugar daddy? Certainly not developing an abominable habit of speaking about herself in third person!

I’ve been taking the odd temp job here and there and supplementing that source of income by helping my sister-in-law with her Etsy shop for a few extra bucks at the end of the day. She’s a bajillion months pregnant and so she can’t get around to running errands for her shop as easily as before. Her shop specializes in hand-crafted wedding details and I also help her make them.

Still, I feel weird taking money from a pregnant woman so I always save up half of what she gives me and I place it in an old pickle jar. I have every intention to give the pickle jar money back to my sister-in-law so that it can be used for the benefit of my unborn nephew but I’ve already had a few run-ins with Drunk Me.

Drunk Me has tried to use that money many times to order pizza but, fortunately, always fails to unscrew the lid and just gives up altogether.

I don’t foresee my brother and his wife asking me to sign on as the baby’s legal guardian should anything happen to them anytime soon.

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