New Unemployment Statistics…


…are proof that unemployment is still vastly out of control.

Duh!

Looking for work is my new full-time job!

If they could make this a paying position, I’d be stinking rich right now.

Hubby asked me the other day, “What kind of jobs are you looking for?”

“Oh, I don’t know.  I suppose at this point I’ll take just about anything.” I say flippantly.

He doesn’t move away, which causes me to lose focus on the computer.

I look up at him standing there square in front of me.

I see the gleam in his eye.

He’s so transparent.

“Well, when you’re done on the computer, I’ve got a job for you,” he offers.

As though I didn’t know that was coming.

I try to look all shy and shit, but he waits for it.

He knows me better than that!

“Asshole!” My standard reply after all these years together. “Get in line buddy!” I say, confident that this will, okay maybe not absolutely positively, make him pause and wonder what I actually do when I leave the house, then come home still unemployed.

I know I’m a great asset to any company. Or maybe, it’s just that I have a reasonably great ass that any company would want to have around.

I’ve had exactly…

Okay. So. No. One. Else. has offered this type of employment in a while, but I sure as hell am not going to let him think that he’s the only recruiter that’s checked out my resume or credentials.

Fuck that!

After 32 years of marriage, you’ve got to work a lot harder at making the spouse jealous, but I consistently try. It keeps things interesting!

An hour later, I close the computer. I’m frustrated!

I want a job!

Any Job!

I go upstairs only to discover he’s in the shower.

I see his pants on the floor.

Mmm…

I rustle through his pockets and find his wallet.

Interesting.

JACKPOT!

Seems he’s freakin loaded today.

Perhaps a little part time job at this moment won’t be so bad after all.

I pocket a $100 bill.

I get undressed, then join him in the shower.

I try to look business like!

“Coming to apply for the job?” he says with that come hither look spread across his face.

“Will there be overtime?”

“With any luck,” he says. “With any luck!”

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