Here we are. Three days, 270 miles, three separate Target stores, and about eleven crying jags later, I have settled into Uptown and am more or less intact. More intact because of my new hot pink bath towel, coffee maker, and lovely MFA compatriots. Less intact because of the looming, unending abyss of unemployment. But more on that later. Because before we go any further, you have to see this:
Meet Molly! Or to be more accurate, meet Molly Patricia Montgomery Pierce. Some people have been saying some things…weird things, like “you can’t give dogs a middle name” or “you can’t give dogs TWO middle names.” But I don’t care about them. Molly Patricia, or 2MP, as I just realized I can call her, is half black lab, half American bulldog. A true American bullador, in other words. Ben is picking her up from her mother’s family today, and boy oh boy are we excited.
I mean, I might as well throw in the towel now, because the writing is on the wall. This blog isn’t going to be about reading anymore. Or writing. Or remission. i should just change the name right now to “Reading, Writing, Remission, PUPPIES! PUPPIES PUPPIES PUPPIES!” Because all I’m going to write about is puppies and post updated photos of Molly chewing her first toy, Molly taking her first walk, Molly destroying her first piece of furniture, etc. And the memoir I’m writing is probably just going to be something like, “oh, boo, I had cancer….but THEN I GOT A PUPPY!!!!” That oughta get me a prize or two.
But back to the more serious matters at hand. I have no job. This is a problem. And I am getting desperate. For example, I went to this place and considered attending their open interview/casting call. Eventually the lady in her bra and underwear superimposed onto the site’s background was enough to deter me, but I seriously thought about it.
And then yesterday, I walked up Lyndale and stopped into every place that was open to ask if they were hiring. Well, almost every place. I skipped Subway and the gyro shop, but that might have been a mistake. Because here’s what my tour of Lyndale Avenue looked like. Well, at least, felt like:
One of these days I’m gonna get me some real marketable skills. Like, I’m gonna learn bookkeeping or become an insurance agent, and I’m gonna use words like “add value” and “synergy.” And then I’ll probably have to stop wearing the same pair of shorts three days in a row and stay up obscenely date watching back episodes of “The Bachelorette.” Yeah, I’m gonna grow up real good. You’ll see. You’ll see.