Until yesterday, I had exactly a buck seventy-six in my checking account. That's $1.76. Yes, indeed. I continue to look for a second job but it seems everything I could do would potentially require additional training, which costs money or would involve unpaid labor on my part, or is a union position, the entry requirements for which are unknown to me. I went to bartending school a few years ago. That got me nowhere. I tried waiting tables once. I was promptly fired. Granted it was London and the pubowner hadn't actually "hired" me. So, technically, I suppose he didn't "fire" me, either.

In the meantime, the holidays are upon us. The holidays that entail gift-purchasing, plane fare and assorted other expenses. Why my entire family had to move to various parts of Florida boggles the mind.

And so I sit at my desk here at the dayjob that I like but that does not make the most of my intellect or creative skills and think of what I have to offer the world of part-time employment. What marketable skills do I have and how do I market them? On CraigsList, I once posted that I typed 90wpm. Although I didn't mention my sex or level of attractiveness, I received emails from sixteen potential employers, asking me if I like to type in my lingerie, while touching myself, while urinating, while receiving an earful of dirty talk, while yodeling, etc etc etc.

I've started walking to and from work. That's a solid thirty-five minute journey door to door and serves a dual purpose. In addition to being broke, I've gained fifteen pounds and cannot fit into my fatpants, which have now become my skinnypants. If I don't lose weight, I'm going to have to buy a whole new wardrobe, which I most definitely cannot afford. How I'm fat and broke is a mystery to me, although I did sleep most of this past weekend and subsisted solely on brown rice, teriyaki sauce and the occasional frozen fruitpop.