This month marks one year since the yard sale on my soul. I was in Richmond, VA. There was not a lot of part time work to be found. Previous to my soul selling, I debated selling my body and soul to The Waffle House. Luckily? they didn't hire me. Seriously, who DOESN'T get hired by Waffle House?? The situation was at its most dire point. Here I was, savings slowly evaporating and credit cards happily building a cell for me. I had to do something. I was hired by Target. I suspect it was affirmative action that got me the job, nonetheless, I had a job. Then Satan came to me and said, "If you will live the lifestyle of an undead demonic vampire I will pay you $8 an hour instead of the measly $7 that you will make working with the living." I readily agreed, after all, how bad could this undead demonic lifestyle be?
Soon I found that while $1 an hour more could buy quite a few JBC's it couldn't buy me my life back. I thought Satan was just joking. Demons and vampires don't REALLY exits... do they? I am here to tell you that YES they do, and YES I was one of them. I wandered from work, to blockbuster, to my apartment in a rhythmic fashion. I lived with three other people at the time and I honestly don't remember speaking one word to them during the few months in which Satan owned my soul. All I really remember is omelets (the closest I could come to the vampiric need for blood), an 18-wheeler idling in my living room, and fearing the sunrise.