Professional, if you work in a cubicle, infers a nice computer, year-end bonuses, and the occasional business trip. Professional, if you're a public school teacher, is the word you try to remind yourself you ARE. That's right, I'm a professional.
I don't sit in a cubicle all day. I don't get a well-deserved year-end bonus. I do, however, occasionally travel on business. Here is how it works. First, join a "professional" organization (example: California Educational Theatre Association). Next, raise your hand when someone says, "who will be the chair of the XX committee?" Finally, fly away to the next out of town meeting. Whoopee! Business travel! That's professional, dude.
Here in San Jose, nucleus of Silicon Valley, you belly up to the bar while you wait for a flight. No alcohol. Instead get powered up with electricity. There are bar stools and plugs for your laptop computer along the bartops. Cool.
I don't sit in a cubicle all day. I don't get a well-deserved year-end bonus. I do, however, occasionally travel on business. Here is how it works. First, join a "professional" organization (example: California Educational Theatre Association). Next, raise your hand when someone says, "who will be the chair of the XX committee?" Finally, fly away to the next out of town meeting. Whoopee! Business travel! That's professional, dude.
Here in San Jose, nucleus of Silicon Valley, you belly up to the bar while you wait for a flight. No alcohol. Instead get powered up with electricity. There are bar stools and plugs for your laptop computer along the bartops. Cool.
The photo, by the way, shows three professional women of a bygone year (maybe 1948). Check out my mom on the left. Undoubtedly they are on a was a business trip to Pine Valley, Utah, their spiritual home.
