Tomorrow is “Pay Day” for me. I’ve languished  two long weeks for this day, and I can’t wait! It’s a small sum but it keeps me from losing all hope in the world.

As you may or may not remember, I work with a small company that provides wheelchair services, baggage storage and security for airline passengers. Alaska Airlines has contracted this small company to assist TSA with running baggage  through an x-ray machine– and that’s where I come in with all my talent and abilities, or lack thereof.

So I basically sit on my ass for four hours, rummaging through the deep caverns  of  my mind, drifting in and out of different states of consciousness (with my eyes open of course). I think, and think some more. I imagine building a small home with no running water. Contemplate how much it would cost, how many rooms I’d need, if I’d have a telescope platform on the roof or not– shit like that.

I ruminate about my past– mistakes I’ve made, friendships I should have avoided, laughs I’ve had, meals that were amazing, love interests that will never evolve into more than anything outside the confines of my mind. My head full of blurred, distorted, grainy thoughts, I laugh to myself occasionally.

I sit. I just sit, waiting to jump up like a pet doing a trick for a treat, for the next bag to shove into the x-ray machine.I think about the story I heard of Mark Twain and his buddy Nicola Tesla shooting themselves in the head with an x-ray gun. Oh, the levity.

During the 100 or so hours sitting like a bump on a log, I’ve convinced myself I’m qualified to work with TSA as a TSO, just like my high school teacher Mr. D said I was back in ’04. Pressured to find a real job, with responsibility and a living-wage, I applied. I’ve thought so much about it that I don’t even know if I want it anymore. I certainly need it.

Now, I’ m waiting for the next hoop, another hurdle, for a bigger treat with harder tricks. Hedging my bets, I joined a union for public employees. Dues are 35 a month with a low, very low, possibility of getting a Maintenance job. Like buying 35 dollars in lottery tickets a month and expecting a winning ticket.

What’ll happen? Who knows. I need to sleep.