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Message: <blockquote data-quote="barsoomcore" data-source="post: 2030060" data-attributes="member: 812">Lessee... yeah, there was that time I got promised a forestry job (tree spacing) in central BC and ended up stuck in Prince George without a penny to my name, not even enough for bus fare home.I took a job as a telephone sales person -- selling (no kidding) SIDES OF BEEF to backwoodspeople OVER THE TELEPHONE. It was a nightmare. I mean, it was utter madness and the people were crazy people and the place stank and it was truly, truly foul.In three weeks I'd made three hundred dollars and got my ticket the heck outa PG. Man...Or there was the dishwasher job at a greasy Italian restaurant where the cooks smoked -- at the counter! It was so gross I don't know how to describe it.Or there was security guard work --  $5/hour to sit at a postal plant beseiged by striking postal workers from midnight to nine AM. I didn't have enough money for bus fare (are we sensing a pattern?) so I had to walk back and forth. In Calgary winter, that's seven kinds of fun, no kidding.Ryan, you've got a job you don't like. And is paying you crap. And it'll drive you crazy. But you know what? It's just one more piece in the big puzzle that is you. Bad jobs are good stories.Read some Henry Miller about his life in Paris. He had a pretty crappy job, too, and he wrote Tropic of Cancer. While having wild sex with Anais Nin. It could happen to you.Well, I think Anais is dead now. But you know what I mean.</blockquote>

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