Thinking outside the box.

Me: Can you please find out if the Capitol gift shop is hiring?
The husband: I will ask. Why?
Me: I have a plan. I will get a job at the Capitol gift shop and in a few weeks, they will see my leadership qualities and promote me to manager.
The husband: Ah, yes, your dream job.
Me. There’s more. They’ll promote me to manager and give me a key, so then we can sneak in there after hours and live in the gift shop without anyone knowing.
The husband: Hmmmmm.
Me. There’s more. We can do all of our Christmas shopping tax-free! And I bet there is an employee discount.
The husband: Why don’t you just wait to hear from Company Z?
Me: There’s more. When we are inevitably discovered living in the Capitol gift shop, they will fire me and I will sue them for discriminating against us because we’re homeless.
<silence>
Me: See? Then we’ll be rich and can afford to live in DC. All part of the plan.
<silence>
The husband: They aren’t hiring.
Me: Fine. Do the Capitol Police need people to brush the K-9 units?
The husband: How is your day going otherwise, baby?
Me: My ponytail got stuck on my lint roller and I pulled out eight hairs. It hurt. 
The husband: Aww, I’m sorry.
Me: And no one wants to hire me. That hurts, too.
 
The husband and I are both trying to think outside the box on job opportunities. He’s getting sick and I think the stress of my job hunt and frustration with no results is accelerating that. Alas, insisting that we could get some patriotic cough drops at the Capitol gift shop if we lived there was not comforting to him and I’m pretty sure the resume I’m folding into a 3-D Washington Monument for him to give to the gift shop people will find itself at the bottom of the trash in the district office.
 
Thinking outside the box will probably come even easier when we’re living inside the box on the Capitol lawn.
 
A friend is getting a puppy soon (!!!) and is going to buy the dog crate we have available, which means one less thing to put into the moving sale. I will be simultaneously pumped and embarrassed if the big items I had planned to use to lure people to our garage are all gone by the big day. But mostly I’ll be pumped. So if you have ever been to our house and want something, email me and make an offer: redwhiteandnewblog@gmail.com.
 
Not available:
The husband
The dog
The table and chairs
My flat-iron
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