Part-Time Lover

Over the past few months, I've been working part-time (as opposed to full) and must admit to liking it. While others rush downtown at 7 in the morning, I'm usually sleeping in. While most work 5 days a week, I consistently have a 3-day weekend. Now, this kind of structure isn't for everyone. It takes discipline, making sure that one isn't living beyond their means. It really only took a few relatively minor adjustments to turn me from being happy with a full-time job to a part-time lover. I feel fortunate to have money coming in at all during times such as these.

A friend of mine lost his $13 an hour job last week and is frantically looking for something to replace it. When I asked him yesterday if I could take him out to Burger King for a bite, he said he was too busy at the local college looking for a job and that I should be doing the same. I chuckled at this because my soul doesn't care how much money I'm bringing in or if I get something full-time again. I was reminded of Deepak Chopra's Law of Least Effort.

Addendum: the title of this post alludes to a number one Stevie Wonder song from the fall of 1985. It was during this time that I moved in with my mom who was no longer a practicing Jehovah's Witness. This meant that after 10 years, I would no longer have to abide by the religion's precepts. At the age of 14, I hadn't received any birthday or Christmas presents since I was 4. You can imagine how happy I was that I'd be getting some presents for my 15th. So great was my excitement that when my mom was at work, I looked intently for what she had bought me. I found one present and carefully opened it to see what was inside. After doing so, I taped it back up again so I could act surprised when I opened it for real a few days later. I found a smaller present next to it. From the shape, I correctly surmised that it was a cassette: Stevie Wonder's album "In Square Circle".

I wasn't gonna tape this one back up (I wanted to listen to it too badly). For the next couple days, I had it next to my boom box and listened to it frequently. A day or so before my bday, I told my mother I'd already opened the tape, but not the other present (such a fibber). I can't recall her reaction, but my wife must've been privy to this story since many times when she's bought me birthday or Christmas presents, she'll tell me not to snoop around in the study (the place where she typically hides them before the big day).