I came up with a brilliant scheme yesterday for making some extra, much-needed cash: I, like all other girls who are “putting themselves through school”, am going to be a stripper. Okay, I’m kidding – the real money is in prostitution. Alright, that was a joke as well, although somebody should probably check to make sure my father still has a pulse. In actuality, I am starting an editing business, where people (mainly lazy GMU miscreants) can email me their poorly-written papers and, for a small fee, I will turn their mindless slop into glorious prose. (Rest assured, that’s not my company slogan.) So I ran an advertisement on Craigslist, emailed the aforementioned posting to Paul and the parents, and received a unanimous thumbs-up.

However, my mother apparently took my plan for a side business as a pitiful cry from a suffering pauper who is at the point of licking rocks to fend off starvation. I open my email today to see that she has emailed me a number of Craigslist job postings, including openings for tutors, law clerks, and random creative positions. And then I get to the last link in the email, and I find this:

Egg Donors Needed
Reply to: job-128406619@craigslist.org
Date: 2006-01-25, 2:45PM EST

Are you a healthy female (non-smokers only, please) between the ages of 21 and 29?
Would you like to help a couple make their dreams of family come true?

We are a full- service fertility clinic with a thriving donor egg program and would love to work with you. You will be compensated $5000 for your time and effort.

Please respond at our website, www.mcfivf.com or feel free to call our Donor Egg coordinator at (703) 876-6311.

Egg donation? My mother sent me this? Does she not realize that if I were to do this, (A) she would theoretically be a grandmother within the next eighteen months, and (B) that sixteen years from now, the uncannily familiar teenager making her cappuccino at Starbucks could very well be my offspring? That’s just weird.

The saddest thing is that I actually entertained this idea for roughly twenty minutes before deciding that I would rather be a poor rock-licker than have a stranger vacuum hormone-induced eggs out of my tender regions.

[I did bookmark the link though. You know…just in case. After all, there may be a sale at Coach in the near future, and you can never be too prepared for a good sale.]