On His Assimilation Into Society

3 and a half years of ambitious career-building at Albertsons/HEB has recently come to an end. It just goes to show you, the average person doesn't come down with a contagious illness three times a month. I didn't figure this out until I was called back into work at 11 am, 4 hours after I would normally have gotten off of work. You know, If I hadn't been sick again. (It was a terrible Autumn for alleged nausea and explosive diarrhea). My manager and I had a friendly chat in which he fired me. Oh shit, I thought. I've never been fired. Since when was being a pathological hypochondriac a crime?

What followed was me getting adjusted to daylight, rush-hour traffic, and homo-sapiens. I had a month and a half of incredibly dilligent job searching. But as misfortune would have it, none of the twelve applications I turned in granted me an interview. Eventually operation "Sean Saves Unemployeed Mk" was put into motion, its execution found me serving as a waiter at Red Lobster.

Going from a hermit over-night grocery stalker tobeing thrust in the middle of humanity proved difficult, as I had expected. But what I didn't anticipate was how many bricks I'd shit in the process. I've wanted to punch customers in the throat and rip out their larnyx for transgressions against my character at least a few times already.

So yeah. I find society a little dense for someone as vaporous and as free-spirited as myself. I feel like an angel descended from the perpetual peace of silence and complete alienation into the maw of the clamoring, multi-headed beast that is society. Its both frightening and funny and relieving all at once. Things happen and I witness them. Its almost too much to bear.

I'd missed ya, humanity. You're like a bad cat who pisses in corners just to spite you. Meowing late at night and early in the morning just because you want to eat grass. Biting me for no real reason. But damn, kid. You got spunk.

Now please start returning my calls,
Mk