A waste of time

Well, money's really getting tight this month. I'm getting to the point where I'm seriously considering getting a factory job. Theatre just can't pay me what I need while freelancing, and nobody wants to hire somebody with my skills at my age and pay rate. And how long before the Unemployment runs out? As much as I really hate to consider it, how can I turn down $12 an hour (and up) for a factory job. A mind numbing, repetitive, soul killingly dull factory job. D works at a pharmaceutical packaging plant now. He's one of the smartest people there, and has worked his way up to line supervisor in only 6 or 9 months or so, with all the overtime he wants. He says that they always are looking for new workers, and I'm pretty sure I can get onto 2nd or 3rd shift, more to my body clock, and more money. But then I started to wonder if all this past time I've just been wasting my time in a frivolous moribund career.

Or I'll move to Vegas and play poker, win millions of dollars, fame, recognition, and kill myself with drugs and booze. (I just saw a TV biography of Stu Ungar. Look him up.)

Deyr fé,
deyja frændr,
deyr sjalfr it sama,
ek veit einn
at aldrei deyr:
dómr um dauðan hvern.