I noticed a lump on the right side of my neck last week.
Since I didn't have a matching one on the left side, I decided to make a doctor's appointment.
[I'm fine. Apparently I just have a lumpy neck.]
[You know how every time you try to see your doctor they tell you the next available appointment is in 16 months? Just say you have a lump in your neck and they'll ask if you want to come in that very afternoon!]
Anyway, as I was walking into the doctor's office, I noticed a male doctor with greying hair.
His nametag said "Larry" and I thought, "I know that guy."
In my examining room I remembered Dr. Larry.
A lifetime ago he was in my ex-husband's medical school class.
[He also happens to be the brother of a famous singer in a band that rhymes with... uh... schmindiglo burls.]
Seeing him reminded me of how awkward it was for me to socialize with my ex's medical school friends back then.
They were all so clear about their life's work and I was floundering around, unable to select a career path much less find the trail head.
There was another guy in Joseph's medical school class who I only remember as "The Monkey Man."
I did not feel weird about my careerlessness with this guy.
Before starting medical school he had a job in a primate research lab where he had to collect *seamen* samples from monkeys.
[*Ahoy, Seamen! Wayward porno Googlers be damned!]
After The Monkey Man collected the samples, he gave the monkeys their food.
Monkey Man said that after awhile any time he entered the monkey room each and every monkey would start... you know... making some samples.
[Makin' some samples! The Samplinator!]
To this day, I can't help but wonder what you would have to say to a career counselor in order for your career aptitude test to return this as a suggested line of work.
Congratulations! The results of your test are in! The perfect job for you is...
Erotic Lord of the Monkeys!!
What would that job be like twenty years later?
You'd have a mortgage, a car payment, a couple of kids and you'd wake up one day feeling the acute drudgery of daily life.
You'd drag yourself to work, open the door to your office and see fifty monkeys start pleasuring themselves.
You'd have to ask yourself,
"What does it all mean?"