Breaking News

Ok, this may sound crazy - and, you cannot tell anyone about it: I have a new job.

You are probably thinking: " Huh"?

That is my sentiment exactly. I was minding my own business, planning a less-than-heavy schedule of working 10-15hrs at the Part-time job on Mon and Fri mornings - balanced by aimless puttering around the premises during the rest of the week, Lawn and gardening, shopping for dinner, whipping -up delicious feasts, grilling meat on the Bar-B, swilling frosty brewskies with my pals, spending inordinate amounts of time hanging around the periodical room at the library, leisurely reading the WSJ down at Starbucks, taking long walks on the beach, painting the front hall, pruning the crabapple trees in front, fishing for stripped bass - that sort of stuff.
Maybe afternoon naps on the new screen porch (which has yet to be graced by any [bleeping] screens; my [bleeping] builder seems to have "runaway" probably to get away from the stress of actually finishing a project!)

He will come back eventually. I know it. (I still owe him a lot of money. )

Yes, it was indeed shaping-up to be another pleasant year of marginal employment - blogging about the hellaceous things that I recall from my working life and shooting at trespassing squirrels with the BB gun, to keep them away from my tomato garden. To me, this seemed like a full schedule of activity.

Now all that is ruined by this new job thing. Now, my thoughts are dominated by angst and trepidation. I need to venture into the dark, unmapped recesses of my closet to see if any of my good shirts still fit me...and I will probably need to be at the office at an ungodly hour and there will be a commute.

Voices rage in my head and images of past clueless management and back-biting co-workers play like a B movie in my dreams.

Against this tide of disappointment and fear of the future is a tiny, but strong current of Hope. My wife is thrilled that I am "back in the game", earning money to help fund her opulant Hiltonesque lifestyle.

And a small part of me admits to being glad to get back to the world of work and ideas. The prospect of making good money appeals to the streak of greed that runs thick in my soul.

Besides, there are servants to pay, horses to stable, pools that need to be maintained. In a word, we have Standards that must be kept. Ok, this part is sort of a lie, but it could happen. As Bloody Mary sings (in South Pacific) "If you no have a dream, how you gonna have a dream come true?" That's why I keep buying lottery tickets.