Just so I don't forget to mention it, I’ll be guest-waitressing tonight for Café Gypsy, at the Lame Hotel (I think I previously had given it the moniker the “Lane Hotel,” but for my own amusement am henceforth referring to it as the “Lame Hotel”).
---
Today, yet another productive day at work, I decide to seek the identity of my employment spirit animal.
I press really hard on my LCD computer screen, watching the images gelatinize and throb into shape, using my seriously sleep-deprived trance to my advantage. What, oh, what will I see?
I am expecting to see a dolphin or Pembroke Welsh Corgi, or at least some sort of carbon-based organism—like a potato, for instance (I mean, I have tubers creeping and taking root all across downown Manhattan).
But from the crest of working 60+ hour weeks for a militant-hippie Frenchman (proving oxymorons do exist); to becoming gainfully unemployed; and now back to a nearly 60 hour workweek split between said militant-hippie Frenchman in the evening, ex-soviet-militant Ukrainians during the day, and a technicolor-hippie Indian on the weekends… my employment’s spirit animal is, disappointingly, a cosine wave.
Lame.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment