sit by the jukebox and wait...
Back from Van. Fuck, I love that city. Ever since I can remember, those streets and high-rises have always captured my love. And now, being old enough to roam on my own and yet unable to sit and have a drink, it feels like a perfect set-up for a cross-roads. I only dropped two resumes. Yes, had I the motivation and dedication, more would have gone out, and I feel fairly confident that some kind of employment could have been secured. At the time, I was considering working at the Banff Springs hotel. I talked to the head of HR a few times, but all she had for me was either dish-bitch or a graveyard cleaning position. Good pay, live for free, free meals. Seclusion, exile, frost-bite and liquor. A few of those things excite me, but I don't much care for the cold and being drunk. So now, here I am. Still in my basement. Still with a car that I no longer want and yet am still dependent on. And not a dollar to my name. I await a phone call from Jasper. Seems logical...