I must be a glutton for punishment. There is no other explanation for my repeated trips to "the worst place on earth." Also known as Wal-Mart. I'm thinking that what I hate more about the store than anything is the fact that I continue to go there because I'm poor. Yes, college has a habit of making you poor. Interestingly enough, so does aviation. Combine the two, and you're sitting in a big bucket of poor. Let's up the anty a bit. How about dropping me in a 70 year old house without a room mate to share the joy of bills with. The poorness continues...
Maybe my luck is changing. I'll learn this week whether or not I got a new job(s), and my money woes will hopefully come to a sudden, and rather dramatic end. In fact, my money woes could be extinguished if this dwelling were to explode in a large, fiery ball that could be seen from outer space. Not that I'm really hoping for such a thing, although the insurance money would be nice. (Volcanoe insurance pays off big time.), then I'd have to live in an apartment, or Flat if you will. The bills may be cheaper, but the rent would certainly not be... I guess I'll just be content to dwell in this domicile all by my lonesome.
I should probably go to class tomorrow... but I'm just not feeling it.
Jeff C.
