Mr. Brightside

I had to find a new job.

Because not only was I slowly going mad in my silent, lonely apartment, I was also running out of money to pay for the silent, lonely apartment. Unfortuently, there wasn’t much a 22 year old can find to do without a college degree. After searching through the newspaper my apartment receives, finding nothing, I decided to go for a walk through the streets and see what I could find.

There were a couple McDonald’s that had “Help Wanted” signs, but I wasn’t into the idea of working at a fast food place.

So I settled for the neighborhood beer distributor. It wasn’t the most flattering job, but it did put food on my table and pay for my apartment. Plus, if the manager is happy enough with what you’ve done for a week, you get a free 12-pack. Which is something I could really need nowadays with Charlotte on the brain. It kind of isn’t really healthy to always worry about your apartment’s neighbor cutting and/or killing herself all the time. So that makes me happier, the sound of free beer.

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