My current occupation is to working what Kevin Costner is to acting. Let me explain: Kevin Costner doesn't act, per se. He stands in front of the camera and just kinda says words. That's what I do, in a manner of speaking. I don't work really, I just perform a set number of tasks in a certain order... for 12 hours a day. The real kick in the dick, metaphorically speaking, is the fact that this job required certifications in order to be hired. That is akin to requiring that the Maytag repair guy attain a degree in philosophy before he can sit in his chair and wait for the phone to ring. I talked to Ken on the phone yesterday, and he conveyed to me his daydreams about returning to Dallas, and I admit that his idea sounds pretty good. Don't get me wrong, though. My old company was a pain in the ass too. Trying to affect change in that place can be compared to lying in ambush so that you can fuck the Easter Bunny; No matter how much you prepare and work towards it, your plans will never be executed. But at least it was fun and I got weekends off. As it is, I never even see the girl that I moved down here to be with. That's not true... I see her every third week. Why not get another job, one might ask... 12 hours a day. Every day. For two weeks. When do I have time? Simple arithmetic: 12 hours = staring at a screen at work 8 hours = sleep 1.5 hours = preparing for and driving to work. .5 hours = driving home from work. That leaves a whopping 2 hours to do with what I please. Whoopee fucking shits.
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