Since you last heard from me I’ve been working. Not on photo essays, or research, or scripts, or stop motion videos. Just working.
I make minimum wage. My company could afford to pay me at least $3 an hour more, but instead they pay that money to a temp agency to keep a bullpen full of freshly drug tested, desperate, and marginally employable 20 somethings warmed up for when I kill myself (or leave in the middle of a shift and never look back.)
I get paid every Friday, but not before my bank closes for the weekend. No problem. I just do what every other hard working American does. I line up at WalMart, cash my check at customer service and spend the little money I make the only way I know how to spend such a small amount of money.
The little time I have left is spent getting drunk, hanging out with my incredibly patient girlfriend, searching for shreds of hope and economic indicators that I may soon be able to move out of my parents’ house, and cookie shopping.
New things on the horizon. Better things. Hopefully by the end of this week. We shall see.
