He said to them, “Let us go somewhere else to the towns nearby, so that I may preach there also; for that is what I came for.”
Summer sun outshines the computer monitor’s light. And the allure of paid time outshines even golden, UV-laden rays. So I have spent the last few days working at my old high school, selling books to teenagers of various stripes. My job was to look at their schedules, pull out a book list, and highlight the books they would need to purchase for the next year. I memorized the list (for Speech you need a book called I’d Rather Die Than Give A Speech) and asked the same questions 100 times. I saw some of my old classmates, not any particular friends of mine. I got up at 6:00 and remembered why I disliked that life. I sat in the same uncomfortable plastic chair for eight hours straight and read my book in the long lulls between families. Right now: QB VII, by Leon Uris.
It earned a little more money for the summer, and that still counts. We fly back to Worcester at midnight on Saturday, a red-eye flight with a layover in Chicago. Then everything starts again, only for the last time.