My days of paralyzing self pity through an agonizingly enjoyable long term of unemployment are over. At possibly the worst time of year, with the summer heat and the endless hours of World Cup Soccer, I have found employment. No longer do I have the chance to sit on my roommate’s couch watching the National Spelling Bee guiltily chuckling at the luckless seventh graders who can’t even spell words with Greek to Latin to Greek to English origins. No longer will I need to dig through the kitchen trashcan in search of half loaves of bread thrown out by my roommate. But I probably still will. And no longer am I able to enjoy myself in freedom and poverty.
But not all is lost, only for a single month must I work as a slave to the man. July brings full-time French classes, this time with the advantage of government financial assistance. Can’t get much better than being paid to learn a language.
May the garbage loaf never be brought up again. Until the next Best Before date.