“New Aunt Exploits Baby Nephew for the Financial Gain of Mere Acquaintance. Only Asks for Sandwich in Return, Proving Once and For All That She Truly Does Have Low Standards.”

In the time that has transpired since my last post I have been passed up for 4 jobs.

UGH. Why can’t I find a job that’ll treat me right and accept me for who I am already?! It’s been over a year since I graduated and I’m turning 23 soon.  I’m having a serious case of the “What-the-fuck-am-I-doing-with-my-life?-Who-am-I? Blues”.

Despite the resultant failure, I’m actually kind of proud of myself because I made it through to the second round of interviews for all 4 of these jobs. Unfortunately, I was “not experienced enough” for half of those jobs. As for the other half, they’ve both decided to go in “another direction at this time”.

Cool. Thanks for ignoring the first gander you took at my resume and expecting me to magically obtain years of experience in between the first and second round of interviews. Also thanks for wasting my time. Sure I’m unemployed and I have nothing better to do but you don’t know that for certain. You don’t know if, in my spare time, I’m a brilliant freelance scientist who’s on the brink of curing cancer!

As for you other two companies that didn’t like my personality enough to hire me because apparently you lack friends in real life and take advantage of your company’s hiring process accordingly: UP YOURS. YOU’RE NOT THAT GREAT EITHER.

And that is exactly the kind of maturity employers everywhere are missing out on.

In other, less depressing news, my kickass nephew “Baby Sam” was born. For those of you wondering, YES, he IS named after me and the fact that his mother’s father, Samuel, passed away exactly two years prior to the day of his birth had no bearing on this matter. As such, I am now an Aunt/ Baby Sitter in addition to being a part-time temp, a part-time Etsy store assistant and a full-time doesn’t-know-what-she’s-doing-with-her-life loser.

I like to take Baby Sam on strolls around the city and the other day I ran into my old video store clerk, Dano, during a stroll. He was busking and we wasted no time making excuses for ourselves with each other.

Me: “Its not my kid!”

Dano: “I swear I’m not homeless!”

Turns out Dano is quite the baby expert because when Baby Sam started crying and I didn’t know what to do, Dano wasted no time in lulling him to sleep.

Me: “You do that like a pro”

Dano: “My sisters have a lot of kids”

Me: “I see. So they do it like pros… Sorry.”

Dano: “No, it’s fine.  They say it takes a village, but nobody ever clarified to my sisters that they didn’t have to be the ones to make the village”

This kind of witty banter putting down Dano’s sisters’ reproductive prowesses went on until an old couple walking by stopped and mistook us for a family.

“Your baby is precious,” the old woman told us, smiling as her husband stooped down to drop a crisp $50 in Dano’s guitar case.

Dano looked guilty and he seemed like he was about to say something but I—already in possession of a first-class, one way ticket to Hell—saw a business opportunity. Feeling generous with my newly minted nephew I quickly responded : “You should see the other one we have at home!”

This prompted the old lady to nudge her husband, who in turn placed another crisp $50 into Dano’s guitar case.

I know, I’m a lying asshole BUT Dano lost his job at the video rental store (The store closed down a few months ago. A video rental store going out of business during the Age of Netflix– whodathunk, right?) and those nice old geezers were probably going to waste their money on butterscotch candies that their grandkids only pretend to like, anyway.

I told Dano that I would visit him next week with Baby Sam and pretend to be his young family in an attempt to guilt people into giving him more money. Dano seemed hesitant at first but I insisted on it and I told him he could pay me back with movie posters and a fancy sandwich from the café across the park.

So glad I’m finally putting that Business Administration minor to good use. Does the return on investment feel small to you, too? Hey, I never said I aced my business classes.

I’ll admit, it feels incredibly creepy to be playing the baby momma of a person I hardly know and, also, a baby momma in general but the world is a stage and I have yet to snag any real roles. This can’t get any weirder, right? I’d hate to admit to you what I would pretend to be for my own personal chocolate bundt cake.


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