I like my day job. It’s not exciting like beat reporting, my old job, when my schedule could change with one call over the police scanner. Now, my days aren’t quite as unpredictable, which, I’ll admit, I’ve grown to like. Yet, I’m still learning what exactly a communications associate for a law firm does, so in that respect, every day my work varies.
Last week, my boss told me to write marketing copy for a brochure about asbestos exposure. We’re taking it to a union meeting in St. Louis later in October. This project coincided with an email from my grandpa telling me that he’d been exposed to asbestos while in the Navy. All the men in my life have always refused to go to the doctor and my grandpa is probably the worse. He wrote he didn’t seen the point of getting checked since mesothelioma (caused by asbestos exposure) is a terminal disease, several of his Navy buddies have already died from it, and he knows he’s got asbestos fibers in his lungs already. So why go through the hassel.
