When I was eleven, my dad hired me as an “independent contractor” for $5 a pop, to clean wads of slimy hair and bandaids out of the pool filter he maintained at our apartment complex. I remember how respectable and important that title made me feel.

I was so proud that my little hands could fit down into the workings. My longest two fingers would reeeeach… to tug at the edge of the obstruction. With the determination, dexterity and professionalism only an independent contractor could muster, I would free the glob!

Since then, I have taken on what feels like countless gigs, side hustles, short term jobs and contracts in two countries and five states. Many of them fully sucked at the time. But, really what is life if not an endless list of weird stories?

Dip back in the archives for the original tale of one of my all-time favorite weird jobs: How I Became a Professional Photographer in 1 Easy Step

Odd Jobs Story #1 My First Week As a Ski Town Nanny