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This year is another one of those years where my birthday falls on a Monday. The last one that I recall was my twentieth birthday, the day I started full time as an employee at a steel ware house here in Chicago. I had been a summer employee ( a loose term as the temp position lasted until mid October) and I wasn't exactly doing very well at my new college (UIC) so when the company called me asking if I was interested in full time employment I agreed. I couldn't start the week before as My mother and I had made plans to see Les Miserables (it was the first time I saw that show) and the job was second shift, so my start date was delayed a week to fall on my birthday. What a terrible way to leave ones teens.

I dropped out of college for the first time after another semester. A 40 hour work week second shift and my ability to handle school work were mutually exclusive. If I went to class I slept. If I went to school at all it was usually to sit in the union and play cards while smoking a couple packs of cigarettes. I didn't mind leaving school so much as I had more money than any of my friends at the time and I was able to move out of my parents house.

Three years of that mind numbing absurdity cured me of any romantic notions I may have had with that warehouse. Growing up near the place I would always peak through the doors as we drove by, impressed by the monster machines. The place seemed vast, the machines incredible. A couple of weeks into the job it was just another building. The management was inept. People were promoted from the floor and given next to no training. My fellow employees had few topics of conversation. Most talk was about alcohol, sex, sports, or back in the day. I would spend my breaks reading in the locker room. Everyone drank, heavily. Many had other substance abuse problems. Promotions often came with selling out two - three guys one had worked with who you knew couldn't;t pass the drug screen. Winnow out a few people at top pay every year hire a few more young ones who think nine dollars an hours is good money. Typical humor might be described in this example: They liked to call me "Tiny."

Later I would quit that job to go back to school. I did well for quite some time with just the memory of that terrible job to keep me going. It didn't last but I got most of my degree done. Next attempt ought to finish the job. Then what? Who knows.

This decade of my life began at a time when I was unemployed. Others may look on this and think of it as a bad omen. From my perspective things are looking pretty good.

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