My first day at Schlaples was short and boring. I learned from an instructional sales video that you’re supposed to make eye contact with customers even if they’re in a wheelchair, and from the safety video how to climb a ladder. The safety video also contained some appallingly bad safety-related poetry, almost Vogon-like in quality.

I also applied for a freelance job writing dictionary entries for an ESL (English as a Second Language) dictionary. They had me send some sample definitions and sentences as a writing sample, which turned out to be problematic thanks to the progressively morbid words that I had to define. It was hard enough to get through all four definitions of “abandon,” with sentences such as “He had to abandon his house because he could no longer afford it;” “The child was abandoned by her parents at the state fair;” and “After two weeks, he abandoned all hope of seeing his dog again.” Then I got to “abattoir,” which is a synonym for “slaughterhouse.” Desperately needing to inject some joy into my sentences, I tried “Having lived long and happy lives, the cows were sent to the abattoir to become delicious steaks.”

I think it needs some work.

EDIT: With a little back-and-forth and revision, I got the job.

But none of that matters, really, because while my life may be a cycle of depression, depression-related food activities, and sleep, my boyfriend has been getting busy getting himself a job. A real job! Details are sparse, I just found out fifteen minutes ago. What I do know is that it pays quite well and I can stop worrying about how to pack for eviction. Woot!

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