I’ve had a semi-complicated relationship with the concept of employment. While I was in school (including college), my parents basically forbid me from getting a job. This is mostly because of my sister, who got a job in high school and stopped caring about school after that. She dropped out of college and my parents didn’t want me to do that. So, after getting my Bachelor’s and Master’s, the world of employment finally opened up to me. Unfortunately, my first two “jobs” were just unpaid internships that were more busy work than anything else. Put simply, my employers weren’t all that good and didn’t really need me. So, instead, I consider my first official “job” to be the first one that actually payed me. And that job had me working at a prison.
I’ve been wanting to make a series where I talk about my life for a while. The reason for this is twofold: 1) It gives those curious about my life some interesting information, and 2) I have a particularly awful memory so writing this stuff down will help me remember it better later. Basically, it’s a journal of my life experiences and things that made me the person I am today. But what to write about first? Some topics that came to mind: My experiences with bullying, my life as a child of divorce, my thoughts on romance and such. But no, those are all too heavy for my first entry into my life story. No, instead, let’s talk about something simple. Since it’s September and everyone is already talking about Halloween, let’s talk about something I love. Let’s talk about horror and, specifically, how I came to love it.