Day 12- (1st Paycheck)

Hooray. I feel rich. I got my first paycheck for this ridiculous job today, even though I had to go all the way uptown to pick it up. Fortunately, it was left for me at the front desk, so I didn’t have to encounter the Man With The Dogs.
I went straight to the bank and deposited all 500-odd dollars of it into my account. No, it’s not that much money. But I was glad to have it, glad that I would be able to pay rent without stress this month.

“You know,” I thought to myself as I filled out the deposit envelope, “I’ll probably get used to this soon. It’s not the worst job I’ve ever had, and look—more than thirty dollars in my bank account is something else I could get used to.”

Such is the sneaky evil of capitalism. Or at least cumulative capitalism. I know damn well if I were ending each day by pocketing 40-something measly bucks, if I was forced to examine the direct rate for each stupid days’ work, I wouldn’t be so amiable about the whole thing.
As I was leaving the bank, I found a note enclosed with the check, which was a printout of an email between MWTD and, I’m supposing, the guy who runs the Pet CPR class, with directions to the place where it’s going to be held.
Handwriiten on the printout was a message from MWTD:
Next Tuesday at 5:30!
It was signed, dismayingly:
Woof woof, [MWTD]

And that made me a little bit sad, to be honest.