They call me the working man. I guess that's what I am.


I’m looking for part-time work today. The demon tech writing job and what little stringing I’m doing isn’t getting fresh fruit in the basket (I can only afford to buy the old fruit. Ever eaten a really old plum? Don’t.)

Just now I did some quick math. I stopped getting haircuts almost eight years ago, going instead for the cue-ball head look (Obviously, the guy in the picture is not me.) I also stopped smoking five years ago. I figure I have saved $1,920 on haircuts and likewise save $7,400 on smoking (Yes, I’m sad to say I smoked two packs a day. Yes, I’m sad to say I have this parentheses affliction this morning.)

Actually, saving is not what I did at all. For if I had actually saved the money that had been spent on haircuts and smoking, I would have more than $9,300-plus interest. Instead, well … Saving. Right!

It’s on with the search. I applied for a part-time data entry job with the U.S. Postal Service. It sounds positively dreadful. But the money sounds nice. I’m still looking though. I guess I should say in being true to the song by Rush: “They call me the look for working man.” I guess that’s what I am.

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