Tuesday, February 27th, 2007 • 1 Comment on Who Knew Writers and Engineers Had So Much In Common?
March is National Women’s History Month and there are a lot of fabulous women out there to celebrate—some of whom I happen to know. It’s not March yet, but I couldn’t help but share this snippet of an e-mail from my friend Amy (with her permission, of course). Up until a couple of days ago, Amy was a member of the “two under two” Mommy Club, which makes her not only fabulous but brave. She claims to be suffering from absent-mindedness since the birth of her second son five months ago, but her sense of humor is still firmly intact. I think that’s probably a very good thing with two little boys! Thanks for the laugh, Amy. You rock.
So I was reading your blog and it occured to me that engineers have something in common with writers (not that I am truly either but I did play an engineer at work). They have incredible urges to create—something, they have tons of ideas, most of which do not make sense, require a lot of research, will probably not come to fruition, and will most likely be forgotten anyway. And they can’t explain what they did all day when they come home. And no one really wants to know. Writers probably have better sex lives though, on average (get the mental picture out of my head!!!). Image-wise, engineers are assumed to make a good living and not be able to tie their shoes. Nor are they expected to carry on normal conversations or have any social graces. Writers on the other hand are assumed to be unemployed, have very eccentric shoes (which they could tie if required) and are expected to carry on phenomenally compelling conversations with the social graces of the elite. One should marry an engineer, but first see Paris and live in a hot city flat above a coffee shop with an unkempt-but-sexy writer (or at least go to a coffee shop).
As for me…
Unemployed? Yes, most of the time, at least in the traditional sense.
Eccentric shoes? A few pair, but they rarely get worn.
Able to tie own shoes? Almost always, unless alcohol is involved.
Able to carry on phenomenally compelling conversations? Questionable. Highly questionable.
Flat over a coffee shop in Paris? I wish. Actually, I would prefer London, but I’ll keep the coffee shop.
Better sex life than an engineer? Probably, but I don’t want to add to Amy’s mental distress.