My first job was working for my high school’s pledge drive. We had to call a list of prospective benefactors and ask for money.
My success rate for this was zero and I was so ill-suited for this task that they took me aside halfway through my first night and fired me. My second job was working for a grocery store.

I don’t know if this is the one I worked at but they all look kind of the same.

My initial job was to push carts, and while I eventually became a cashier, by the end I was pushing carts again. I really disliked the job and left it after I had called in sick too many times. This time happened to be after I got hit by a car on the way to school, but I didn’t mind. As I said, I disliked the job, and for a long while I never went back there. Years later, I finally did, and tonight was one of those nights. It got me to thinking about whether or not things have changed for me since then and my life hasn’t changed all that much.

It’s been about fifteen years since I left that job. While I’d like to think I’ve grown, I haven’t actually made any permanent advances to my life. Since then, I was engaged for a while and lived with my prospective fiancee, but now I’m right back with my family in the same house I moved out of. I’ve certainly learned some things since then, but what else is there to say about me? I’m still making comics on the Internet, but the amount of people I can readily talk to has decreased significantly despite the fact that it’s far easier to do that than ever before. Which is about the only thing that’s changed: my gadgets. I have a car and a cell phone now, and wi-fi is a thing now when it was just a faint dream fifteen years ago.

I don’t know where I was going with this. I guess I just wish more had changed.