D. lost his job yesterday. He was late one too many times. He's late a lot because someone takes the car to FDL twice a week because she's all about having a totally inconvenient and self-indulgent job and he, with the real job that pays twice as much money, has to wait for a cab. Technically, he's also late a lot when he has the car. He's just generally a late kinda guy. But this is all my fault.

A month ago, when he was told the next time he showed up late he was gone, I said I'd quit the bookstore. I'd see if maybe Patti was hiring, even though her bookstore sucks, or I'd go back to 24/7 at the restaurant, even though that was driving me insane. He said I shouldn't do anything I didn't want to to do.

Fuck! Where is he going to get another job? We live in Cowtown. Now I have to make sure I only work in town, because he won't be able to find anything and we're gonna end up living in a van down by the river. One of us needs a real job. We actually live fairly cheaply, so we don't both need to make a lot of money. But one of us does. I'm the one with the degree. In theory it would be easier for me to find a good job. Have I said "fuck" yet in this paragraph? FUCK.

OK. Me looking for a new job right now is madness. What if we both ended up with out of town jobs? So. I will tell the bookstore that I'm not quitting yet, but I might not be able to give notice when I do quit in a week or two. Fuck.

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