The Sexual Anarchy of Working in an Industrial Kitchen
As mentioned in my relentless self indulgent blogging, I work a lot of jobs right now. The idea was, to move out of the urban hellscape and retvrn/go insane living in the woods. Something I’ve talked about for a long time.
Things were all going smoothly until I suddenly found myself with the amount of liquid cash that, according to the plan, I was first supposed to have in a couple of months. I can’t go into details, but lets just say that every time things in my life seem to go bad, I’m always saved at the last minute by miraculous intervention. Lets just say the sweet baby Jesus saw fit to manifest REAL CASH into my life. I refuse any responsibility for turning things around, I accept no responsibility for anything good that happens, ever. Anything good that happens is the benevolence of God, anything bad that happens is my personal responsibility, forever, no exception.
Anyways, and I met a girl who will 99% certainly become my gf in ~September. All of a sudden, I’m finding myself thinking about not moving after all. All of a sudden, I’m finding myself thinking about, just sticking with this and making more money, maybe seeing how this girl thing plays out, you know.
