Last night I drank a six pack of Sam Adams lager and then sipped back about 3/4 of a 26 oz. bottle of vodka while sharing my thoughts online until I started puking around 4:00 A.M. this morning. I slept until noon. Now I'm having a hair o' the dog... a big splash of Banff Ice in my coffee as I slowly write-out who-knows-what on my little blog here.
I drink alone mostly. Chopping firewood and walking to the liquor store a couple of blocks away with my adorable little dog Mila in tow comprises the bulk of this 36-year-old's gross total of physical activity. It's my life and I'm fairly content with it. Maybe I have what some psychiatrists would call a complex. I'm always looking for an argument. I don't currently have a job, and I'm in no hurry to get one thanks to my parents generosity. It's doubtful that any serious organization would even consider my application given my penchant for sharing details about my personal life online. All that's left are employers desperate to hire anyone for the most basic grunt work.
The way I see it, if I'm going to do grunt work, I may as well do it for my elderly folks rather than someone with an enterprise who expects you to be on your toes 40 hours a week and provide your own transportation using whatever pittance they can afford to pay you. It all seems counter intuitive to me. You end up lying prostrate before the interest rates. Working for a living is expensive these days.
My dear old Dad who's looking pretty good for someone pushing seventy years of age is still working full-time. Last week he mentioned that a local car dealership is looking for a lot person. Every car dealership is seeking lot people due to the acute labour shortage around here. Every restaurant is looking for dishwashers. Every truck driver is looking for a swamper. Every bank branch needs another teller. I really don't care. My last job was as a part-time dishwasher. I can't handle the humiliation of being a stooge any longer. Thank goodness I have no dependents to worry about, because clipping coupons and driving a payment-sucking minivan around on errands as your ungrateful kids criticize you from their booster seats seems a modern system of survival for the unwealthy that never appealed to me.
I see the faces of the oil patch workers as they exit the bus and shuffle into the strip mall's grocery store to buy cigarettes and convenience foods to take back to their $1200 / month closets. They don't appear to be happy... in spite of their $20 - $28 / hour wages. I bet they don't know what Boolean algebra is. Hopefully I'm wrong, but I'll bet most of them don't have over 10,000 Tweets to their credit. For most of them, credit is a score they'd rather not discuss. Do I really want to surround myself with such personalities for sixty hours a week? It's not that I have contempt for hard working people.On the contrary, I admire the resolve of anyone who chooses to make an honest living. While they might struggle with the written word, at least they have integrity.... unlike our shills in the legislature.
I've done it before. I've proven to myself that I can do the heavy lifting... despite my ability to type 100 words a minute, form a proper sentence, write original music, design a website, solve complex equations, and use control-key functions in a Microsoft Windows environment, I'm simply not interested in toiling for a petro buck while the parasites and vampires get a free lunch. I'd rather keep playing the You Tube lottery...
I drink alone mostly. Chopping firewood and walking to the liquor store a couple of blocks away with my adorable little dog Mila in tow comprises the bulk of this 36-year-old's gross total of physical activity. It's my life and I'm fairly content with it. Maybe I have what some psychiatrists would call a complex. I'm always looking for an argument. I don't currently have a job, and I'm in no hurry to get one thanks to my parents generosity. It's doubtful that any serious organization would even consider my application given my penchant for sharing details about my personal life online. All that's left are employers desperate to hire anyone for the most basic grunt work.
The way I see it, if I'm going to do grunt work, I may as well do it for my elderly folks rather than someone with an enterprise who expects you to be on your toes 40 hours a week and provide your own transportation using whatever pittance they can afford to pay you. It all seems counter intuitive to me. You end up lying prostrate before the interest rates. Working for a living is expensive these days.
My dear old Dad who's looking pretty good for someone pushing seventy years of age is still working full-time. Last week he mentioned that a local car dealership is looking for a lot person. Every car dealership is seeking lot people due to the acute labour shortage around here. Every restaurant is looking for dishwashers. Every truck driver is looking for a swamper. Every bank branch needs another teller. I really don't care. My last job was as a part-time dishwasher. I can't handle the humiliation of being a stooge any longer. Thank goodness I have no dependents to worry about, because clipping coupons and driving a payment-sucking minivan around on errands as your ungrateful kids criticize you from their booster seats seems a modern system of survival for the unwealthy that never appealed to me.
I see the faces of the oil patch workers as they exit the bus and shuffle into the strip mall's grocery store to buy cigarettes and convenience foods to take back to their $1200 / month closets. They don't appear to be happy... in spite of their $20 - $28 / hour wages. I bet they don't know what Boolean algebra is. Hopefully I'm wrong, but I'll bet most of them don't have over 10,000 Tweets to their credit. For most of them, credit is a score they'd rather not discuss. Do I really want to surround myself with such personalities for sixty hours a week? It's not that I have contempt for hard working people.On the contrary, I admire the resolve of anyone who chooses to make an honest living. While they might struggle with the written word, at least they have integrity.... unlike our shills in the legislature.
I've done it before. I've proven to myself that I can do the heavy lifting... despite my ability to type 100 words a minute, form a proper sentence, write original music, design a website, solve complex equations, and use control-key functions in a Microsoft Windows environment, I'm simply not interested in toiling for a petro buck while the parasites and vampires get a free lunch. I'd rather keep playing the You Tube lottery...
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