Day 26: Code Name: Looking For Work

Oops. Missed yesterday. I was busy "looking for work". So today, slightly hungover with little sleep and shaking uncontrollably with my good friend from Ontario who, surprisingly since I threatened her with little children holding machetes, hasn't been officially following my blog (don't see your face on my list, R), are going to the shooting range today. Yup. And not only are we going to the shooting range. We are going to the shooting range in the mall. You have to love Edmonton. But not until after another extra strong Starbucks and possibly a couple of muscle relaxants. I'm not so good with the loud noises, I jump when I turn the tv on. Well, I'm not used to having cable so unless I press play, it's all new to me.

So, I'm putting off the inevitable, looking for work, the kind of looking for work not in parenthesis. The real jobhunting without vodka shooters. Why? I have a problem with committing to a job that will either eventually kill me mentally or physically. I can say with certainty that I will eat nothing but cheesecake everyday for a month (and I did once) but I cannot say, or even bring myself to submit a resume, to a company that smells like 9-5 or cancer-at-the-age-of-50. I have no problem putting chemicals into my body myself, that's my choice. But in order for me to do the same amount of damage as say, working at a steel factory for 20 years, I'd have to seriously start drinking more bleach and smoking cigarettes rolled in fiberglass. As for 9-5, you have to be some freaking robot to do that for the rest of your life. Seriously. People are either brainwashed or there are aliens out there. Which I don't doubt, but I don't believe I've met one yet. I don't take public transportation often enough.

So, I'm cutting this short because I think I can now hold a gun without shaking and shoot a target instead of an innocent bystander or mall cop. Should be fun. Maybe I'll meet an alien, too, anything can happen at West Edmonton Mall. Love the mall...