These songs of freedom are all I will ever have.

It is like a book of car crashes, on each new page you think the next picture could not possibly be worst, and then there it is. They find a way to shock you again.

I realize now that I have no place at a gas station.

I got praise from the head CEO guy for Winnipeg today. The Gas Baron himself came up and pretended he was a customer. It was busy, so he did not care that I did not wash his wind shield. He came up after and congratulated me, then helped out for a while. Then an old woman yelled at him for not doing the discount coupon right. He was amazed I have only been working six shifts.

I will use it to ask for a raise if things go wrong today. Ich, I do not want to think about that.

I love old people. They cannot drive, or add, they smoke too much and insist on paying with as many pennies as they can muster. I love the smokers, and their anal stance on only smoking Players Light 100’s. Addiction is the spice of life. I love counting. At the end of every shift, you have to count every chocolate bar, every pack of chips, every pack of gum, every can of pop, every paper, every pack of smokes, and every everything that there is in the store. Everything, counted, at the end of every shift. It is so we do not steal, which I take as a personal insult to my intelligence.

As any fool can see how easy it is to set some one up for the blame...

They bog you down with so much paper work to stop you from stealing that I know there is no way some one is going over my numbers unless something goes wrong. Not that I am doing anything wrong, I want them too look at me walking away for the last time and feel bad about losing me. I have been trying to be the best employee I can be. As a test for myself, sort of. To see if I can hold an insult on my tongue without spitting... or swallowing. I want to be in the position to demand a raise if I am forced back to work there tomorrow. Ich.

Faith faith faith.

Happy birthday James! (A day late)

I called twice but you were not home. I am smoking a blunt for you after my interview. When are you moving to Winnipeg?

Relax.

Deep breath. I must remain calm. Alert. Ready.

I finally know what I can say as my greatest weakness. Math! Well I would have to say math is my greatest personally weakness, if I do not have a calculator, or some paper I get confused adding numbers. So long as I have something to write on I will be fine, but do not trust any of the numbers to come strictly from my head.

A good weakness, as it is not really that applicable. When will I have to be counting cheese with out paper or calculator?

One hour. I will leave in twenty minutes.

Best get everything organized.

Bike, lock, hat, bag, pants, shoes, shirt, sweater, ready, set go. Too bad it is raining out.

Stupid old people

reminding me of my own mortality!

You have had your time!

More than most will ever get to see!

Stop reminding,

Of my own mortality!

The Perry Bible Fellowship

Some times I wish my eyes would turn blue from all the tea I drink.

I told my work that I had a doctors appointment at two, so I needed off at one, so by two forty five I was on the verge of freaking out because the math was killing me, but I let my manager believe that it was because I was going to be “late.” Making me late for something else sets a bad example, as work itself is something that you should be on time for. My interview is not until four. Of course. So with a little luck, and a lot of charm I will be able to give a detailed report to them on the failings of their training program during my exit interview. Spare no feelings. Feel no guilt. Work some place else. Any place else.

I would rather be calling Americans to inform them to their unpaid credit card bills than supporting terrorism 75 litres at a time.

It would make a good bumper stickers to slap on the back of SUVs.

”I support terrorism Seventy five litres at a time.” You could put it over a faded back ground of American flag blending with a Saudi Arabian flag. I also want to make stickers that say, “Save our Trees, No Flyers Please.” And then go around and put them on everyone’s mail box. The idea being that only the people who really, really want flyers will take the time to peal them off their mail box. I had better go. I want to have a good fifteen minutes to dry my pants before the interview.

Uehen today Sean tomorrow.

ADDED THREE HOURS LATER:

Asking for Less.

Oh terrible fate.

Sometimes the circumstances will only allow you so much victory. Dare I call it victory. I feel my bad day hanging on my mind and I feel that I have answered all your questions incorrectly. It was not a normal interview. None of the normal questions. My best rehearsed pieces left on the side lines while the third string fumbled every play. Maybe I am being hard on myself. I did make him smile. October thirty first, is when I will know if I am free. If I am able to leave this job behind me. I did make him smile. A month is a long time to wait for an answer, and he seems forgetful. I guess that means that I will have to track him down again in two weeks to remind him why I am the answer to all his problems.

So in my lull after the interview I make myself feel better by going to Kustom Kulture and reading ad busters. Ich. So much crappy glass.

Unhappy would be a good way to describe me right now. I am so rarely unhappy. Oh sure, I am rarely jubilant but... ahh. I do not want to work at a gas station. Much less this gas station. My grasp on the English language and my ability to learn everything about something is so perfectly suited for cheese and wine.

Irony.

Even cancer needs a home.

No future, no future, no future.

If I died in the summer time.

October is summers last stand.

The last hope for a few more sunny days.

I hate this damned tilting axis, why do the trees have to die?

I just got off the phone with Andrew. Nothing good has ever come of some one named Andrew. I am the bloody golden boy of the fucking gas station. I left all the paper work for him to do after I was running “late” and it was a hundred or so odd dollars short, but he was all to insistent that I not worry about it. Don’t worry about it, don’t worry about it. All would be forgiven so long as I kept working away.

Why did the day have to turn so sour.

I realize now that the bar is rather high in the expectation department over there, but seeing as I work at a gas station the hurdles still only need to be stepped over. You can see the decline from what they have in our Team Members Jump to the Pump manual, to what they tell us during training, to what your fellow employs will admit, to what is really going on.

Where will you run when there is no ground?

Relax Sean, we will hand out some more resumes Wednesday morning.

I have come this far, may as well go a little further.

Uehen/Sean

Some one who claims to believe in nothing, obviously believes in something, but will only bring it up, when trying to make a point in an argument.

-Tyler on his favorite type of anarchist.