If you read last month’s column, you know a recent incident left me with a fractured sternum and vertebrae. It also gave me a good case of whiplash and reading is difficult. I cannot quite focus. But as a TV lover, it is not too bad because I can watch as much as I want without guilt. All this TV watching has made me question my career choices. I now wonder, “Did I pick the right one?” My career was fun and interesting but what if…
I should have been a detective. Did you know there is a station that shows nothing but old Datelines? If you have DirectTV it is channel 4288! Or just watch reruns on Peacock, the streaming arm of NBC. I think my skills could help solve quite a few cases. As Keith Morrison always says, “It was murder!” You see, there are a lot of people in the world who think they can get away with offing their spouse. But they cannot because, well, the spouse always did it. No spouse? Then it was the rejected boyfriend or girlfriend. Dateline always begins with a very careful description of the crime which includes the detectives, family members and sometimes the alleged spouse/murderer. Occasionally, they even show the spouse professing their innocence, yet the outline of the orange jumpsuit around their neck is a dead give away. Dateline never really shows unsolved crimes, that’s another TV program. I definitely think I should attend CrimeCon—it’s a real thing—so I can hone my skills. I will then be able to offer help to police departments all around the country!
I should have been a doctor. Again, the knowledge I have from binging The Pitt, The Resident and Doc almost make me a doctor, and I can always use WebMD as backup. Each of these medical shows feature one or two cases, and even before the doctor gives the diagnosis, I have already determined it’s a burst appendix, kidney stone, gallbladder issue or a woman who does not know she is pregnant but is in labor. My skill set has gotten so good I had a dream the other night that I was a neurosurgeon and my operation was being videotaped as a teaching tool. I actually woke up sweating a little bit because I am not a doctor, much less a surgeon. It is far too late for me to go to medical school, but I am pretty sure Washington University Medical School still offers a Mini-Medical School for those of us who have aged out or simply never could pass biology in college.
I could have been a Real Housewife. Oh, I have watched my fair share of The Real Housewives of Wherever, so I know the drill. You have to balance between being a rabid gossip and likeable. It is hard for any of these women to do that. So, each season one of the women is portrayed as the villain. I ran across a new series on Netflix, Members Only: Palm Beach. Let me tell you upfront, you will lose brain cells by watching it—but you won’t be able to stop. Palm Beach is apparently the epicenter for class. Who knew? Not me, and this writer won’t be spending any time there in the future. I lack ‘class.’
So, as I mend, I am going to continue exploring new career choices. I will keep you posted. Peace my Peeps!