The thrift shop finished for the week. Progress has been made, I've managed to clear the entire floor - meaning the donations can now be taken to the back. So - on schedule, or thereabouts, to be unemployed. In the meantime I've set up a box in the back for "my things" - stuff I don't want to be carrying with me that will eventually find it's way to the locker - and - hopefully - a studio. SO far, a broken old fiddle and cuckoo clock.
Now the back end - and this is no trivial task, as it is filled with things that everyone has picked up, looked at, second guessed, set down. This is the problem - watch the veterans walk around the floor, comparing finds they've unboxed, laying them aside until they have time to do "more research", this - "more research", it becomes unending, get rid of it already, if it sells for a few dollars less than it could have that's a great thing, it brings people back, and it's out the door, room for more donations - and there's always more donations.
After work, a cheap meal in town, stock up on booze and cigarettes, carrying - laundry, sleeping bag, computer and writing stuff, too much shit. And the weather is turning for the weekend so a bus to Balfour so I can sleep inside the next few days. Fully employed and entirely homeless.
And - just when I'm thinking I might be making some money it's time to make a dentist appointment. Not time, overdue, and whatever I'm earning isn't going to be enough - not by a long shot, this will be one of a series of regular trips to misery and discomfort, death on the installment plan, but - fucking hell, it's overdue and sometimes you just have to suck it up and resign yourself.