Yesterday, Saturday, I helped Cole pick out a sofa for his new place. He wanted me to pick what I liked, so I did: an L-shaped, dark beige (kid and pet friendly!) faux suede couch. The perfect option for a home full of kids, pets, and guests. I’ve never lived anywhere large enough for me to own such a sofa, but Cole’s new place is plenty big enough for it.
Spending so much time with Cole has inspired me to look into a new profession: dental hygiene. I read online somewhere that it’s a growing field, particularly with all those baby-boomers who grew up without fluoride in their water and the average pay is supposedly pretty good, like $60,000, which I don’t expect to make right away, but that’s a great salary for Analise and me. It’s a profession that also doesn’t require a four-year degree, just a two-year associates and there is a college with a dental hygiene program near me. I am currently working on my application, which is an online submission. Money, of course, is a concern and I hope I can get enough financial aid to cover my costs. I have to apply first before I can find out what kinds of loans are available.
This might be the best long-term option for me, even if Cole and I never date. At some point, I won’t be able to do erotic massage any longer.
The few people who know what I do suggest to “start looking for another job.” Unfortunately, my resume is nothing but strip clubs and massage parlors, except for one summer that I worked for a swanky golf course selling beer from a cart and dressed in a manner to encourage tips. I don’t want any future employer to know about my stripping past. And indicating that I’m an independent massage therapist on my resume makes me uncomfortable because it begs the question of a license. However, if I go to school for dental hygiene, I imagine my boss will only be interested in my school performance and there will be no need to explain gaps in employment. This is my plan and for once, I am very excited.