For the past several months, I've been working as a facilities manager at a church. This is a fancy way of saying I'm a janitor. It isn't quite that simple, but it's close enough. Most of my time is spent ridding the floors in the preschool building of their typical childlike droppings — cookie crumbs, Kool-aid splashes, soggy Crunchberries, crushed corn chips, and what must cumulatively have been eighty pounds of glitter by now, having missed its gluey mark and sifted down into the carpet like pixy dust. Funny how it seems the sweeter the mess, the easier it is to clean up. Damn, but they really should be teaching these kids how to flush the toilet.
Anyhow, one of my favorite fringe benefits of the gig has been snooping the stuff that appears on the walls of this same education building. Its upper level houses the church's Sunday school classrooms, and recently a white sheet of posterboard appeared in the fifth grade room which I feel casts an interesting perspective on the recent worldly madness. It reads:
THAT'S NOT FAIR!
— An old lady in Atlanta was digging through the garbage for food.
— I don't think the President has been treated fairly about Iraq.
— When people get more goldfish than me.
Anyhow, one of my favorite fringe benefits of the gig has been snooping the stuff that appears on the walls of this same education building. Its upper level houses the church's Sunday school classrooms, and recently a white sheet of posterboard appeared in the fifth grade room which I feel casts an interesting perspective on the recent worldly madness. It reads:
THAT'S NOT FAIR!
— An old lady in Atlanta was digging through the garbage for food.
— I don't think the President has been treated fairly about Iraq.
— When people get more goldfish than me.
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