Chronicles of a Resident Mover

There may be no greater responsibility for an unemployed friend than to be the resident mover. On the occasion that you come across the week-day move, when all the normal friends are at "work," the jobless friend sure as hell better be there. She just has to be. The obligation is not suggested of the friend--oh, no--but the perk that came with the package of becoming jobless in the first place. It's why I did it. Why I left my job, essentially. To help a friend move ... and more. I did it to have more time for friends, for people who need me or could need me, and for myself who needed me a little, too. I got legitimate work done this morning and I'll do a bit more tonight, but today--today--I could flex my bulging mascles and make a serious dent on the work someone may have had to do alone. It's not all for the other person, either--for me, manual labor is very therapeutic. And I also get a kick out of imagining that we're playing hooky or something and I've just corrupted my friend against the corruptible corporate workosphere. Ha HA! I'm just kidding...I don't really know what that means. All I mean to say is that I enjoy it--helping someone move--for exactly the reason I intended to.