The weather was annoying today. It was cloudy, cold and windy. I went out to put in applications to restaurants downtown, looking to get a job as a dishwasher. I used to feel inferior when washing dishes. If you’ve read George Orwell’s book Down and Out In Paris and London, you might get an idea of what the layman thinks of a dishwasher. Thoughtless grunts who spend all their energy at a job that pays just enough to rent a room just long enough to sleep, then get up and do it again. But I want a job that lets me just put my head down and not deal with anyone else’s shit. And that’s exactly what I found. I was hired on the spot at Spark’s Barbecue. They had me start tonight. The night went smooth as can be, and this was a busy night. I put in my headphones and caught up on episodes of The Vergecast. I was given compliments for my performance. The job is easy as shit. I really don’t have anything more to say, tonight. Maybe Orwell was right about dishwashers not having the energy to form subtle thoughts. Then again, in his book he paid for his ticket to London by washing dishes, which is exactly what I’m trying to do.