First thing, Monday Morning.

I sat at the beach for the next few days, staring out at the lake and dreaming. I had never really noticed it before, but Lake Henry, in the right light, was nearly perfect. I had always thought it to be a scuzzy tourist trap, filled with imposing families from the city and lined with bars kept busy by twenty-something brainless disease bags, pounding chests and trading women. I was only sort of right. You had to leave the strip to see any more than that. Down here, down in the park, down by the water, at the "poor people's beach", things were beautiful. The air was clean. The traffic was quiet, the women were beautiful and subtle, and I could stare at the water uninterrupted.

Large, elephantine clouds sat sparingly in the sky, casting great contrasts on the bright green mountains surrounding the lake. It would be sad when the leaves turned, died, and fell, leaving only the brown and grey remnants of their former glory. I felt stoned. Maybe I ate something. Maybe there was some residual wine left in my blood. Everything seemed bright, fresh, and new. I had come up with a plan. I would work at Seasons with Michael. Maybe even just part time. At the same time, pick up another part time job. Maybe just a series of little work. I needed no career. So long as my bills were paid, and I could save a little here and there, it didn't matter how it happened. The idea that I could provide for my wife, and still lead some semblance of the care-free living I so longed for sat light on my heart. I smiled. If everything worked out, maybe this time next year, I could do this professionally. Sit on a beach, write, drink wine, and feel love.

"What are you thinking about baby?" Marie asked. She was tanning on the blanket next to me.

"A year from now, I want to write."

"You write now."

"No, I mean, as a source of income. I want to have a column in a paper, or a successful blog, or be a reviewer of beaches, booze and bikinis. I want this, today, everyday."

She smiled and raised her eyebrow. "Good luck baby. It won't be easy."

"I know it."

She went back to reading. She was stunning. Lying there, stomach down on the towel. Her body filled out in all of the right places. Each curve, crease, and tone as tempting as the serpents apple. Thank Christ she was mine.

My cell phone rang next to m. I looked at it. I didn't recognize the number, and for a moment hoped that I could fuck with a telemarketer. I answered.

"Hello?"

"...Mr. Martin?"

"Yes?"

"Hello, this is Raymond. We spoke the other day..." It was the fellow from the cable company.

"Hello Raymond."

"We got your test results back, and we would like to officially offer you the installation technician position. Are you interested?"

This was it. I had fought the idea for over a week now. The cable company. The 401k. The middle management and the bullshit. Coming home everyday after working too hard for too little, to throw my fat-ass down on the couch, watch television and pretend that that's what I've always wanted. Stability. Only, that wasn't what I would be truly getting anymore, is it? No, I have seen the papers. I have heard people talk. I have watched my friends parents drown. No, a career was no more a guarantee for stability than sucking dick on camera. Taking this job meant nothing more than losing all of the things that made me me. My friends. My music. My writing. My time with my family. My smile. This was a voluntary fade from existence. This was a slow inhale in a long gas chamber. This was the enemy of all I had recently discovered, of all I was hoping for.

Marie looked up at me. "Who is it?"

"Hold on just one moment, please," I said to Raymond. I looked at Marie. "The guy from the cable company."

"Did you get the job?" She smiled. Her eyes lit up. My heart sunk.

"Yes," I said, through a wall of defeat.

She leaned over, and kissed my arm. "I love you honey."

"I love you too."

I went back to my phone call. "I'm sorry Raymond, are you still there?"

"Yes."

"I am interested. What now?"

He filled me in. I was to report first thing Monday morning to their local office. I needed tools, and steel toe boots. I was to get work pants. It was suggested I get a tool belt. I would do six weeks of training, work fifteen hour days, six days a week on average, and work piece rate after training was completed. I was fucked.

I set the phone back down.

"Well?" Marie asked.

"I go in at eight Monday morning."

"Okay. Do you need anything?"

"Steel toe boots and a few tools. Work pants."

"Okie doke. We'll get those tonight."

"Okay."

I stared back out at the water. I felt doomed.