Where do I Sign Up for That??

Sorry readers one and two, I know it has been forever since I updated this blog. This is probably because nothing exciting happens in the life of a public accountant. However, there is one thing I spend a great deal of my time as a public accountant doing: Thinking of what I would rather have as a career other than public accounting. The list is extremely long and includes the whole spectrum from zookeeper (preferably in the penguin-care unit) to accidental princess (a concept I both love and do not currently have the energy to explain in full), however, of late I have started noting some jobs that are not only more interesting than public accounting (not tough to do) but also extremely easy, and probably high-paying.

For example, I was sitting in a cliché American food restaurant a few months ago staring into space, when I realized I was actually making direct eye contact with an enormous alligator. Because I live in America where it is common knowledge that if you walk into a O’Charley’s, Applebee’s, Chili’s, Bennigan’s, Max&Erma’s, TGI Friday’s, or any other restaurant of the like, the walls WILL be covered with random paraphernalia from who-knows-where-and-when, this really didn’t concern me so I simply mentally congratulated the alligator for winning our staring contest (a la Will Farrall as Robert Goulet, of course), and rejoined whatever social setting I was in.

But THEN, I snapped back to the alligator. I understood that the alligator was there because previous to its existence on the wall there had been a gap in the random shit about the size of an alligator, but it struck me that still someone had to be responsible for purchasing it, and deciding to go with an alligator and not a crocodile or even a toboggan for that matter.

Now, THIS was a job that I wanted. There had to be absolutely zero stress associated with being the person who chooses and purchases random shit to put on walls of new American food restaurants. First, you can buy ANYTHING you want – there are no requirements and how would you ever go over budget when all of it is completely junk? I can only assume the everyday trials and tribulations of the job go something like this:

“Oh, they didn’t have a toy tractor for that space over booth seven? It’s ok! I’ll just hang up a roller skate and a picture of someone’s grandpa holding a fish!”

or..

“See what I did there? That’s FOUR horseshoes over the bar. I put up three originally but I really think the little brass one adds a nice touch. It was ten cents extra at the flea market but I thought, ‘What the Hell, right?’”

The fact that there has to be someone that flies around the country prior to the openings of these places and determines that yes, when the lovely citizens of Cedar Falls, Iowa would love to have a canoe suspended over their heads when they enter Bennigan’s Store #418 infuriates me – not because I don’t see the odd purpose to this job, but because I’m angry that it never occurred to me as a possible career path. Is it too late to give back my accounting degree? ‘Cause I’m guessing that, to become a Random Wall Shit Procurer, you don’t have to pass four extremely difficult 3-4 hour exams, pass a bogus ethics course, and work for a year under another certified Random Wall Shit Procurer….

Ok, enough about that. This brings me to the next career I really wish I had considered before sitting through an 8 AM Accounting for Derivatives class for 6 weeks. Last night, I was watching American Idol and drinking a rather delicious 2009 Pinot Gris from Washington State called “BoomTown” with Tiffany, when I realized that the wine was not rather delicious at all, it was EXTREMELY delicious.

Obviously, I had to read the bottle further to figure out more information about this fairy juice. This is word-for-word what was written on BoomTown’s 2009 label:
“Listen and hear the heady rush of rhythm and a passionate back beat sounding loudly from the unique vineyards of Washington State. It’s our calling to capture the distinct movement of quality and pride inside every bottle and deliver an experience to savor. Can you taste it? This is Boomtown.”

WHAT? Last time I checked, grapes didn’t have passionate back beats. Is there a reggae band permanently stationed between vines 16 and 17 creating the “heady rush of rhythm” found in every bottle of Boomtown? Who writes this stuff?!?

The correct answer to that question is: Not me. But believe me, if I could make a living coming up with bull shit about drumming pinot grapes, I’d turn in my KPMG security badge right now.

Moving on…. About three weeks ago I was assigned to do a Q1 review of a corporation that sells colors to clothing and textile companies. They create new hues using a specific formula of dyes and chemicals and then sell both the formula and the dyes to customers. As this was my first time auditing a company such as this, I requested a tour of the facilities. To make a long story short, there was this room filled with racks and racks of little pieces of cloth in every color imaginable (and some I honestly hadn’t ever taken the time to imagine). There must have been at least ten thousand colors, and these were just the ones on hold for just two companies! Most importantly, every single color was NAMED. Someone had to come up with “Galapagos Tortoise Green”. That’s all I’m saying.

So this got me thinking, there must be infinitely many easy jobs that pay about as much and cause a fraction of the stress that my job does out there. So I did some research:

Probation Officers make between $35K and $60K a year and basically just sit around waiting for other people to check in with them. Property managers can make over $70K and in some states only on-the-job training is required to work as one. And by “work” I obviously mean sit in a club house and wait for someone to hand you a rent check. Um, sounds like a good deal to me?

Anyway, I had originally intended to do more research on the matter. however, on the next article that I stumbled upon entitled “25 well-paying jobs that people overlook”, next to the number four was “Accountant”.

Ugh. Fine.