pot dealer

...I am not.
Yesterday I missed work and received my "final warming." Shitty that if my alarm doesn't go off at one in the morning I won't wake up until after my whole shift is over. So, in an effort to pay off some debt that I owe to friends, I took a course about how to deal pot. My roommates, other friends, and even some family have been telling me recently that the best drug dealer is one who doesn't do them. This really makes zero sense to me, how could I sell pot if I never have any? How do you meet stoners when you don't get stoned? The only way I could see doing this would be to have a client base handed over to me. Anyways, my drug dealer friend gave me some (a lot, really) of instructions about it. He has just recently moved to Ptown and is always trying to exploit my social capital and get me to deal for him. Figuring that I'll be fired from making bagels soon and will need some income, I took him up on this and got the Stumptown marijuana training. It took nearly two hours and was a real big waste of both his and my time. He used a chalkboard and told me about the differences between Indica and Sativa, between genotypes and phenotypes, the history of cultivation and hybridization, and all this information that I thought was useless to sell pot. I mean, if it gets you high right? Wrong.
The hands on portion of the training was just as fruitless. He sells three kinds of pot, each of varying quality and price and flavor: Pineapple, Train wreck, and Pitbull. He pulled them out of their respective jars and I studied them for the test. Apparently, besides phenotypes, the best way to differentiate pot plants, is by the smell, if you aren't going to smoke it. This, among other very good reasons, is why I can never be a pot dealer: I don't smell. When it was time for the test (yes, he tested me), I couldn't tell which buds were which varietal. Whatever, we moved on, this was a minor obstacle as long as I could figure out a way to tell them apart, like labeling the jars they were in.
The next part of the training was role playing. Now, salesman I am not, and long story short, I didn't make the sale. I won't be dealing pot anytime soon.

bagel baker

Success! I started a new job on Tuesday making bagels and delivering them early early in the morning. It isn't really such a success though because the only way I was able to get my foot in the door was through my roommate who recommended me after working there only three weeks and quitting, which is about as long as anybody else has worked there. He's only been open for a year, and there is only one person still employed after that much time. The turnover rate is high because, as nearly everyone who works there has been eager to tell me, "the boss is really crazy." When I met him for my interview he was quick to tell me about the times he has fired three quarters of the crew for no apparent reason. He said I could stay working there as long as I did a good job (duh) and didn't talk to much. "I fire so many for talk too much." There are notes posted all over the place about the talking rule, but so far he seems a pretty standard boss.
I'm pretty surprised at how much I like the job. The hours are awful, starting at five sometimes. Tomorrow I have to be there by two in the morning. The coworkers are noticeably frazzled by the hours, which is entertaining. I get to bring home six bagels per shift, which is thirty-six servings of bread for the roommates and I to consume. And truth be told, I secretly hate bagels. But I'll probably get fired for talking anyways.

carbon footprint

I've been getting myself really down recently because of my carbon footprint. When I first calculated it a few years ago in the Eugene it was around 6 earths, in Oakland I had it down to 1.2, but here in Ptown it's at 2.8 with certain destructive choices that I can't help but make because of finances. Even after calculating it with my ideal choices, like buying all local foods and going vegan and never being in a car, it was still at 1.8 earths! The problem is my housing, which I don't really see as being a choice I can make. Somehow, the infrastructure of society here has been designed to be institutionally destructive. So by the mere fact of my existence, I am actively (and consciously now) making my future worse. That's quite a load to bear everyday, filled with anxiety about the future.