On desperation, Tim Hortons, and the Apocalypse So now things have changed again. I fired off an email very very VERY unenthusiastically [1] to Tim Horton's the other day, at the encouragement of a parent that went something along the lines of, "don't burn yourself out." The location I emailed to, got back to me in the wee hours of the morning today and very simply stated, "when can you start? Please phone us and let us know, because we'll take you, no questions asked." This was after the email from even wee-er hours of the morn that was like, "generally we would turn down a person with three other jobs...but if you don't fuck with us, we won't fuck with you- we'll make it work, in fact. It will be a delightful orgy of team spirit and cream filled pastries!"

Additionally, I performed the miraculous get-out-of-bed-and-open-the-store" trick this morning in fifteen minutes, as I'd slept through my alarm clock for forty-five.

"Man...you look tired. Hey, why are you opening? Isn't it usually the old guy?"

He's probably in Mexico and possibly inebriated right now, yes.

As for the cleaning gig...I picked up two tentative clients today. One whom is the best friend of the super and a friend of mine, and the other being the building's most notorious drunk. It should be ok (he's also PH- Mr. Mysterious U of A alumni, or
"the downtown trapper" as I've come to think of him)). I went for a preview of my first job tonight for Mr. N, and he paid me in advance (oh ye of tremendously immense faith, LOL) and showed me around. It's going to be a slice too, because he's a "pre-clean for the cleaner" kind of guy--mind you it's all surface cleaning.

A few bulletins:

Vasyl...you need to call me.
Bento- we need to get moving with the lease-signing...
Hydrass- you da shit. Keep on rockin'.
Fenton- Stop. I can hear you.

All: I miss you!










In summary, the theme of this summer is that everyone else seems to have an intelligent job but me. I'm doing grunt work again, but you know...I wouldn't have it any other way. I imagine if I was actually using my brain for four jobs, perhaps I would burn-out, but really, my feet just get tired. In fact, my brain is in Tahiti as we speak, lounging on white sands in a pickle jar and getting ready for September.

[1]VERY VERY VERY.  ¶ 12:07 AM