A new year, a new job hunt.

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.

For the next two weeks I’ll be living in a farmhouse on the outskirts of a little town that time forgot, right on the border of  Nowhere and Somewhere.  I won’t be able to enjoy any of the modern conveniences that come with a high speed internet connection because where I’m going, there is no high speed internet.  No up to the minute news.   No streaming HD internet pornography.  It’ll just be me, the daily newspaper, and a pile of dusty old National Geographics.

In the meantime I’m working on a script that makes some weird Neil Diamond references, a stop motion, a mountain of reading, and a life plan.

I’ll be checking in on the virtual world intermittently from remote locations and tweeting from my phone every time I shoot a bird or catch a varmint.  If you need to get in touch with me in the event of an emergency, pick up your phone and ask the operator to connect you to the oldJohnson place.

Until the 24th,
AP.

Here are the top 5 strangest search engine hits I received here at alexmpeters.com last year:

1. “pictures of slightly overweight women getting fucked”
2. “how to write cleaning notice for toilet”
3. “stealing other peoples domain names”
4. “i never take wrong alexander”
5. “ive cut my hand on glass will i need a tetanus?”

Despite the fact that I never actually talked about any of these things, it seems my demographic has found me.

In other news I’m still unemployed, I’m still living at home with my parents and I want to kill myself.

And now for 21 seconds of stop motion.

Yesterday I went grocery shopping, washed dishes, and made dinner.  Today I woke up and watched the CBS morning show, Let’s Make a Deal, The Price is Right, and twenty minutes of Regis and Kelly.  Unemployment is turning me into a housewife.

If you stare at that poster over the head of my bed for long enough you’ll look a lot like a stoned sixteen-year-old me.  There’s also a nice watercolor print that Mom put up next to my Superbowl XXXI Packer’s poster when Grandma came and stayed here 3 years ago.

There’s no place like home.