Tuesday, August 19, 2008


As I sit at my second job--really my only paying job aside from my futile attempts to survive in the mortgage industry--I look outside and think to myself, "Hell! I should get a five week vacation!" I start daydreaming. Ohhhhh, what fun I could have with a paid five week vacation. I started asking myself a series of questions that all had the same answer, beginning with:

Who in America gets a paid five week vacation anyway?

Where could I work and put creativity to work? A place where no idea is too dumb. In fact, nothing I think of even has to work, but it has to be different than how we do it today; and, it needs to be something that can eat up at least a year's worth of discussion before the next five-week vacation. That's the only criteria. It would be like kindergarten all over again. Where could I work and get paid to use my imagination?

Wouldn't it be nice to just think something up, talk about it, then have it happen? It would be whimsical. Just thinking and talking about this makes it feel like something's changing already. I feel powerful.

Where could I embrace and love diversity and change so much, that I wouldn't change a thing because it might offend someone.

Hold on, I have a customer. I'll have to get back to this. The economy is backwards. I have to work two jobs to keep afloat. Times are tight. The world is practically at war. Oh if only Clinton were still president. If only there were a few statesmen (and women) left. Things have really gone to shit around here.

What's the opposite of progress? Congress!

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