Kristin St Gelus

The Little Black Book

Since Covid hit back in March I’d been out of work. Not that working in retail is much of a career, but it was just enough to keep my eyes up. It was a night out with Stephan on a Friday. It was the annoying drama of coworkers to keep life interesting. Most of all it was the freedom of driving. Selling my car had been one of the low points of my life, but that had long since faded into the grey monotony of waking up at 5:45 everyday to sit at the bus stop, looking like Bernie sanders, waiting for the old deserted looking hunk of metal to take me on my ride of shame to the unemployment center. This was now my daily rhythm, like a steady marching beat, never faltering. That is, until December 1, 2021.