The More You Know

At some point when you just don’t succeed in finding a new job, you start looking for answers. Maybe it is me who just isn’t good enough. Perhaps the other candidates are better. Or is it God, who just put me on this earth for his own amusement.  No, it has to be something else. Something I did in the past so karma is fucking with me now.

I thought hard about this question last week. And not because I woke up on my bathroom floor the other day. Face still covered with smears of red and white paint, burnt clown clothes in the toilet and a red nose floating in the bathtub. No, the problem is the people who need to decide I am the perfect man for their job don’t know the good things I do for this world.

I called Scotch, since he might remember some more brave stories from our high school years. But apparently he had to look after Pewter. So I was forced to use the alcoholic version of him for some moral support. So, settling behind my PC I registered myself at Wikipedia and since no one else had made one, created a page about me.

A few hours later my wiki page was completed. Satisfied I looked at my list of achievements. I sure did a lot of good to this world. Like that time at high school when I saved some girls from suffocating in the showers by drilling air holes in the wall.

And the day I discovered a cure for the flue. Sadly I cannot remember what chemicals I combined. But the fact remains. When Frank had finally been released from the hospital. He had never been sick again with the flue.

Yes, tomorrow I can start looking for a real job. Because now they know. And knowing is winning half the battle.

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