mondojohnson

I am entering the phase in which the bite of unemployment becomes sharp and deep. Funding for the next meal and pack of cigarettes — much less, the rent — is an open and troubling question, for instance. I am certain that the devils at [my former employer -- REDACTED] owe me a final paycheck, one that is sorely overdue. It appears that I won’t receive it without a fight, a daunting proposition when one is under the heavy thumb of depression. I can barely leave the house, so the prospect of girding for battle with anally litigious, corporate dickheads is one I face with slow-moving anxiety.

As in most major life crises, a Simpsons quote succinctly encapsulates my plea: “WILL DROP PANTS FOR FOOD!”

Send info regarding job offers and your checks and money orders to chris -at- mondojohnson.com