It was a dark and stormy night. The rain was beating against the age rippled glass in a constant and persistent cadence.
Ok, just kidding.
It's now November and the chill is setting in. It's crazy to think that just 11 days ago, I was wearing a T-shirt, piled in with all the other 250,000 Obama-ites at Grant Park.
The one tried and true thing about this blog that has been consistent since it's beginning is that one of us is unemployed. So far, so good. I'm finishing up my fourth month of joblessness, and it's still looking bleak for future work. It's a dog-eat-dog world, and the hungry dog population in Chicago is just getting bigger.
What I need you to do, my dear readership, is to remember me when you're tired of your job. When you are pissed that you have to work late, or that you have to be on that cash register. Just know that there are worse situations that you could be in.
Also, now that I am thinking of it, if anybody has leads on retail or office manager style jobs, keep a dude like me in mind. By this point in my search, I ain't too proud to beg.
