to celebrate the rude awakening [though to be fair i was expecting to be ill upon opening the envelope] brought on by the arrival of yesterday's bank statement, i have renewed efforts at procuring employment, dragging my motivation kicking & fizzling out of a fog of procrastination, subway envy, & the latest thomas pynchon novel.
& we have two options:
1. guinea pig for Eastside Medical Center, in which i have the exciting chance to test out a new & experimental medication & maybe die / undergo fucked-up neurological side-effects [but get 600$ as long as they don't randomly drug-test me at the wrong times]
2. write people's term-papers at a starting rate of $12/page, 20-40 pages a week. interview tomorrow. at an east midtown starbucks, fortunately one where i don't have a history of conducting illegal business transactions. email says i don't have to dress up but dear god where am i gonna stash my mind control equipment. honestly this job is perfect for me, especially since i don't really have to care about the end product since it's no longer my academic ass on the line. can churn out a reliable stream of learnèd bullshit quicker than you can shout FRAUD & douse me in kerosene.
flinging resumes into the ether was feeling way too much like primate excrement-throwing. craigslist "etc" come save me from myself. self-sinking battleship seeking same, let's talk about our futures together & see who vomits first. full disclosure: i just saw / felt a huge rubber band in front of me snap--symbolic or just my subconscious' evolution from throwing unexpected trains at my ass as i nod off on the job since i'm so friendly with trains these days
oh well. "you're only young once."
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