Tuesday, August 14, 1984

I got up early and got ready for job hunting, got gas in the car, stopped at eleven different places of employment and gave every place my name and phone number, but there were no openings. Now my gas tank is empty and I feel empty.

Steve's new part-time job doesn't seem like much of a part-time job, since he only worked fourteen hours in the last three days. He can't feed, clothe and shelter himself, and afford public transportation back and forth to work on $10.00 net wages a day.

Greg went for a job interview today, but the company just herded ten people into a room for an IQ test and then told him to go to a local hotel/motel chain tomorrow for a job description and briefing.

President Reagon made a faux paux about blowing up the Russian people, and now foreign countries are saying that he is a senile old man, the same as I thought months and years ago. I arrived at that conclusion be comparing President Reagon to my sharp, witty, totally in the present, but sometimes petty, father at the same age as President Reagon. President Reagon isn't any sharper mentally than my Dad was, and maybe not a sharp. I certainly wouldn't have wanted my nation to be at the whims and quirks of the increasingly limited thinking, and increasingly narrow-mindedness of my Dad. He often said Reagon was too old to be President before he died and he was of a similar age, so, I assumed he knew wheat he was talking about.