For the past month, I have been scrounging for jobs and leaning on my emergency fund for sustenance. It hasn’t been all bad. I’ve come used to hearing the word “no.” It’s scarcely a blip on my radar screen any more.

And now, after all of that scrounging, at least I’m working with words. My new position as newspaper delivery woman puts me in the vicinity of quite a few of them, in fact. Except rather than feel elevated by my post as deliverer of the common voice, I feel more like a species of drive-by gangster.

I begin my shift at 3:30am as I pull up in the back of the newspaper office. I load my hoard of newspapers in my hatchback and continue on my way.

Since I don’t know my way around yet, I spend most of my time looking for house numbers as my little grey car hums slowly down the street. I pray that none of the neighbors calls the police.

I was pretty lucky to get the job actually, despite that I may one day be required to explain myself to a member of the armed forces. My old co-worker’s brother is a columnist for our local paper, and he suggested that I use him as a reference. Fulfillment was the only department that was hiring, and even then they had only one position available. Despite my obvious over-qualification, I took the job and started work this past Saturday.

I work during the unholiest of hours, but I’m home by seven which gives me plenty of time to continue looking for other opportunities. The pay isn’t fantastic, but if I eat nothing but rice and beans and beans and rice, I should be able to sustain myself for the time being.

And you want to know the biggest perk of all? Daniel gets the paper. Yes, my mysterious neighbor has a name and does actually go out of doors. At 5:12am. To get the paper. So here’s the information I’ve collected on him so far:

  • Wherever he went on his vacation, he has returned with an incredible tan
  • He sleeps in brightly-colored shirts (today’s was green)
  • He has a great smile (and smiles quite often)

Not much to go on, but quite enough to magnetize my mind in his direction. I resolve to say more to him than “hi” and “here you go” tomorrow. I am determined!