Last week I had no work ahead of me and the rest of the year promised to offer more of the same. I luckily sold two diamonds to make enough money to pay rent and send my kids in Thailand, but my own existence was threatened by a dismal lack of funds. I called friends to any leads. Most of them were leaving town from the holidays. My luck seemed to have crapped out, until I spoke to my old employer, Richie Boy, on 47th Street.
"I can use you over the holidays."
"Thanks."
I started last Tuesday and have worked every day since. Getting up at 7am and not getting home until 7pm. My entries into Mangozeen fell to zero.
Today will be the seventh in a row.
"Working every day sucks," Richie Boy stated yesterday.
"Not working every day sucks worse."
Don't I know it.
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