Occupational Hazard

When filling out paperwork at the doctor’s office, I always hesitate how to answer the occupation question.

I am paid to dress up like a pirate and lie to children about being a member of Captain Jack Sparrow’s crew while painting their faces in the likeness of Captain Hook or Captain Jack himself or mermaids.

That doesn’t fit in the space provided.

My official title is Pirate Master, and I’ve just come to terms with the fact that in Central Florida people accept Pirate as a legit job description. If they don’t, it makes for a fun conversation.

I’ve prided myself on the fact that I’ve survived my last 4.5 years of pirating without a small child sneezing directly in my face.

My streak ended today.

In the middle of applying blush to a talkative five-year-old pirate, she sneezed.

She then proceeded to tell me that she had sneezed.

Thanks for clarifying because the snot and spit on my face wasn’t a dead give away.

I had hoped that one of the advantages of still being single and without children at 30 was that I didn’t have to deal with someone else’s snot on my face, but here we are. #pirateprobs

I’m being dramatic for an effort at comedic effect. There are worse occupational hazards to have than germs and repetitive motion injuries. But lately I have let small disruptions in my life pile up to become mountains that keep me from moving forward.

Hoarding complaints feeds my pride because I am only focused on myself and how I’m being inconvenienced.

Among many other not so great things, pride keeps me from writing because I believe I need to have something profound to share if I’m going to write anything. The words must be awesome, and they must be perfect in the first draft or there’s no point.

I have no profound lesson here because I think you already know you shouldn’t let the small stuff bother you enough to hold you back. Though sometimes a large gap exists between our knowing and our doing.

Life is an occupational hazard waiting to happen. It’s messy, and avoiding the mess doesn’t make for good stories.

Laughter has always been my coping mechanism. If an ounce of humor can be found in an unfavorable situation, I will find it and treasure it.

Learn to laugh when life sneezes in your face–and maybe also take some vitamin C.