Don't ask me, dearies. I'm bushed. Running all around getting ready fer that rotten job I just got. Running to the notary, running to the fax place, running to the drug-test place, where a desperate-looking young man asked me if I could spare a cup of urine.
Did any of ye happen to see the list of the 12 worst cities in terms of personal income dropping between 2008 and now?
MIDLAND was the very worst of all. Three times as bad as any of the other top eleven! But I knew it, despite the many denials here. The store shelves are getting empty, people aren't buying anyway, and there's a peculiar feeling of gloom. Traffic is lighter. Restaurants closing right and left. National chains pulling out. All the want ads fitting onto 1/4 of a page in the paper, which has gone up to $2. So many being forced into part-time work when even fulltime work isn't paying enough. Hundreds of houses going up for sale while hundreds of apartments are being built and standing empty.
But some wealthy nut is building a gated community with a fake river meandering through it. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.
Now you see why I jumped at this job, although it's truly a bad job.
Here's an elegant gal. Flapper, by the looks of her.