It all has to happen

This morning doesn’t look all that well for me.

I just did the math, comparing what I get in unemployment benefits to the payments that are are automatically lifted out of my bank account to go to my car insurance and my debt management plan. Without going into any numerical details that would violate this blog’s security policy, I have to conclude that the benefits just doesn’t measure up. Even if I don’t spend any money, which is impossible because I’ve already been to Dollar Tree and Dollar General, I’m going to overdraw my bank account.

Imagine that. My best friends for the better part of the 00s decade were the little discount places with the word “dollar” in their names. They are no help to me now; they now promise to be my undoing.

I hate to say this, but April is the month when it all has to fall into place. If I don’t get this sales job for which I’m interviewing today, I might as well start making my reservations for the men’s homeless mission downtown.

Be in prayer for me, please.

A little later…

I just got back from TruGreen. The interviewer says I am an excellent candidate for a sales position, and he’ll hand me up to a higher sales manager, who will either grant me a second interview or offer me a job. Things are looking good, for the time being.

Why not sell for TruGreen? I’m already doing everything else Grandma says to never ever do or even believe. I’m fidgeting in front of the TV, in spite of all those They people surrounding my apartment with their binoculars and walkie talkies.

Wake up, fool! They (the real killer of reputations They who like to talk all around me behind my back, not to be confused with mere mortals other than you and I) use digital cameras and YouTube and Twitter and (horrors!) my own blog to show the world how unacceptable to normal society I am nowadays. But that’s beside the point.

I’m finally waking up to realize that the world is my laboratory. I am free to make valid hypotheses and test them with experimentation. No more accepting complete baloney just because it’s repeated over and over again 963 times with great urgency by somebody who’s got a few decades of age on me and thinks it’s blasphemy to ever call her wrong.

Hypothesis: I postulate that, once I turn my likeable self loose on some well-to-do homeowners in Delaware County, I can easily earn enough loot to keep my one-bedroom apartment, my Pontiac GrandAm, and my Internet service. And thus preserve the existence of a winged bear in Second Life who shares my voice.

And God willing, that experimentation will begin today.

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