From the Basement to Botswana

Three years ago I didn't feel like there was much to be said for working at a shady car company in Culver City. Had my pay been higher, dissatisfaction would have still welled up in my throat and spilled out in my diction: this job is stupid. A career is great. A career is necessary, but there's much to be done (all paperwork aside). I left Loyola Marymount's ivory tower and greeted the real world of pencil pushing and paperwork.
I became a volunteer at Planned Parenthood Los Angeles to beef up my potential Peace Corps Application and do more than just keep myself occupied. When the owner of the shady car company cut my (already part time) work hours by half to keep his sinking business afloat, I submitted my resume to Planned Parenthood. I interviewed in the basement office. Two weeks later the job was mine, and when I first started working for Planned Parenthood Los Angeles (PPLA) I never in a million years would have imagined what a family I was being inducted into. We worked in a small basement, steps away from the beach in Santa Monica. In that basement, I found a family and a home filled with limited storage space, a lot of junk, and good times. From the basement to Botswana. The Basement is where the story begins.