My first week of "unemployment" has been a Dickensian glimpse into what my post-collegiate career would have been like had I not gone into the Army. As my degree in Classical Studies has as much utility in today's world as underwater fire prevention, I would have no doubt had to resort to scrambling for bad jobs. Well, I've had nothing but bad jobs since I've landed on Terra Caroliniana.
I spent two days "visiting" my buddy, Dewey, which turned out to mean that he handed me a paint brush and told me to get to work. Two rooms and a few million brain cells killed by fumes later, I was adroitly booted back to Charleston where today my father had me rake the pasture (yes, pasture, not yard...he's got three horses grazing out there who think there's nothing funnier than to plop a pile onto a freshly raked mound of pine straw as I get the wheel barrow) and then dig an irrigation ditch. I have the rest of the ditch to look forward to tomorrow, along with chain- sawing fallen trees and anything else the bionic old man (two new hips) points for me to do.
They say there's nothing like doing something you don't want to do to help you figure out what you want to do. I don't want to do manual labor. That being said, apparently, I'm very useful with home improvement projects when I go to visit people. If y'all have anything you need done, just make sure to have beer on hand and be prepared to deal with whining.
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