Still in the Forges of Mordor for the time being. It's not a horrible job, the pace seems OK. But the fumes get up my sinuses leaving black crud and my throat has been sore since Thursday night.
Saturday morning I had an interview at a local grocery store. Only minimum wage and 32 hours a week but it saves me 1 1/2 hours of driving every day, so I said 'yes', although I am still hopeful that the Printer's will call me for a second interview for the proof reader's job. I am hopeful that this is the pivot upon which my fortunes will at last begin to turn.
It'd be nice to work straight days and use my education for once in my life.
It'd also be nice to get out of Mordor before the Foreman comes up and puts a hand print on my face. I'm too short to be an Uruk anyway.
I've also been reflecting on things theological in all this too and am really struck by how, to paraphrase the Beatles; I've been getting by with a little help from my friends.
Money has anonymously arrived in our mail box more than once. Another sent a cheque just in time to pay for Snugglebunny's blood pressure meds. Others strongly suggested I sell my painting services and even more have stepped up to give me their business. One fellow who also loves bunnies, keeps bringing food for my warren and figures for me to paint and sometimes pays extra and in advance. Another fellow comes over to talk while we paint and does his best to shore up my sometimes flagging spirits. He and another are also always ready to give me a lift somewhere if I need it. And then there are the encouraging phone calls and emails and some good advice and even a few job leads.
Every little helps.
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