Reading Bunk's journal

... 7. Hook, pull, hook. Push. My break is in three hours. My break is in an hour. My break is in 30 minutes. My break is in 10 minutes.

Ah, break time.

But I can't find no place or nothin', where thrills are cheap, and love is divine

I don't get it.

I'll bet that just took 5 years off my life--but GODDAMM if it wasn't worth every second

(WARNING: Spoiler ahead)

My job is to push shopping carts at a big box store. We collect them in groups of seven, hook them together with a rope, and push them back to the front end of the store.

When sufficiently hot/humid, the repetitiveness of this creates a hypnotic effect.

(I should mention, it's not nearly as shitty a job as it might sound. There are upsides, but the work itself is not one of them. ;))

But I can't find no place or nothin', where thrills are cheap, and love is divine