That worked out really well

I laid down for about an hour and got up and made coffee and read some OD and the boss called me when he got the papers-  ’twas about 8:40 when I left home again and met him up at Powell and Milwaukie, about a mile from here.  He’d added ten papers to my list, so I had 283 to deliver.

He had told me he’d give me $30 plus $10 for gas, $40 total.  When I used to do the Sunday firsts, I’d get $50 and use his stepvan, which gets maybe 7.5 mpg, so there was no gas money for me since I did not fill the step pig ever.

Together with the Saturday papers and the Sunday firsts, I put 49 miles on my van – less than 20 for the Sunday firsts, so I’ve made a profit on the gas expenses, since my van is getting over 18 mpg, even loaded with papers.  (all that money I put into making it run right has paid off handsomely- it got 14+ mpg when I first got it)

To sum it up, I’ve just made more than $18 an hour.  It took me just over two hours to drop all the Sunday firsts and just very slightly over a gallon of gas to do it.

Can I get a "Yahoo!"?

***

Regarding the last entry:

I was in a coma and a comatose state for almost five weeks after the car wreck in 1998.

I so wanna tell you I saw my mom, who died when I was 15.

I’d very much like to say that God and I had a long conversation, which changed my mind about killing things.

I’d love to say I "came to Jesus" then.

I cannot.

I didn’t have any sense of "I".  I did not exist as a separate, conscious being.  I knew nothing, saw nothing, and the "me", the essential individual sense of a separate being was not there.

Time went on without me, everyone else lived their lives, fought traffic, bitched about all the commercials on TV, but I was not there at all.

I woke up and came back to myself gradually, but I was SO happy to be here that it completely changed my mind about some things.  That feeling has not fully left me even 8 years later.  Yeah, the anger that drove my life has crept back in, and the sense of "why me?" along with it, the feeling of the futility of being, but the feeling that life is sacred and not to be taken lightly at all has never left me.

*****