Back to the grind

I'm back at work, and after checking the 200+ emails I missed in the last 10 days, getting back into the swing of things work wise, I can only say that being here is like screaming down the highway, only to blow the left rear tire and continue said screaming to a dead stop on a median guardrail at 76.4mph. High octaine roadtrip straight to mundane work an orangutan could accomplish if given enough bananas as compensation. I love bananas...especially if they live on the roof of my truck for at least one evening and are perfectly just past over ripe.

Chatting with folks for the last week, and more specifically old college and high school buddies that seem to have life by the gonads (i.e. doing what they want to do in life, making a decent wage, and gearing up for/already elbows deep in having families) makes me feel a bit odd about sticking with a low paying easy job that makes no sense with regard to 2 of my 4 majors, at night, and in the middle of social degredation. "The Dirt".

I love the adventure of hunting or a new gig, but haven't quite found the right combination of Shaggy Saavy intellectual/rudimentary skill set type stuff. At least according to the last 30 some odd places that allowed me to raise myself all the way to the second best choice. Maybe they got the memo from eachother that mentioned that I only own one suit, two sport coats and enough ties to make it through a handful of interviews. That last luncheon or dinner with the handshake that said "the job is yours" would have included a second wearing of one at least one article of clothing.

But then again, this evening the paper required 180 plates. Rote rehearsal and repetition allowed me to daydream about my past adventure and complete my daily chores here at the Gazette with little or no effort. If they only made the paper during the day..and had all the late breaking news available prior to nooner, life would be grand.

Tomorrow I pack up some more of the fishbowl and continue my search for a place to live. T-minus 16days to homelessness. It's not reallt that bad...I'm storing my belongings and probably couch surfing. So technically it'll be mailing addresslessness, and even that can be circumvented if I feel like checking mail at the 'Rent's place a couple of hours north of where ever my ass lands.

Shaggy Bob prediction for tommorrow...estimated time of wake up 2pm