It’s interesting to think about what you choose as a career if you could do anything and know that you’d make a living at it. For example, a lot of people probably want to be musicians or athletes or artists or what have you, but didn’t go that route because of the uncertainty and risk involved. Or because they don’t have parents who let them live at home while they strum a guitar or run around chasing balls and tackling people. You know, either or.

But anyway, I have decided that if I could pursue anything and know that I could support myself doing it, I’d be a cartoonist. Think of how much fun it would be to draw stick men/Garfield all day and be paid for it. In fact, here’s where it lands on the fun scale:

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where the left bound represents playing Prisoners of Catan (yeah, I said what everyone was thinking) and the right bound represents reading this blog.

AND THEN IT HIT ME. I can send in my cartoons to various newspapers (or perhaps just to random addresses?) and see what happens.

So I did. And you know what happened? They all ignored me.

 

That concludes today’s edition of How the World Slapped Me in the Face (and How I Lived to Tell About It).

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