Rebel Rescuer

Yeah, after leading the life of a popular television crime drama for WAY too long, I’m looking at leaving for greener pastures.

It’s not that I don’t like dead people maggots, or various injured body parts, or the smell of two-week old blood.  Ok, I hate it.  In fact, if I stay here much longer I’ll either A) develop a serious mental problem involving plastic spoons and visions of animated dut bunnies B) the perma-wrinkle between my brows will swallow my entire face or C) I’ll snap completely and become “last seen” wearing hockey jersey and no underwear while running haphazardly through downtown traffic.

And no one wants that, do they?

So yes, my resume is sitting ever so patiently (or not) on the desk of someone in an animal-related industry.  The job is perfect for me!!  I mean, what could be better (besides being a pro poker player?)

Of course, it feels like my poor vulnerable little self is just sitting out in midair waiting for a giant smackdown.  But its worth a try, no?