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  • I thought of this technique all by myself.

    Didn't acquire it as a tip from a website on how to prepare for homelessness.

    Didn't read about it in the memoirs of some renaissance vagrant, no.

    It's mine alone.

    Hell, Heloise didn't even hint at this one.

    The creativity behind this idea would be more eye-popping on my resume than all the crap that's listed there now, apparently. I have credentials that would choke a roomful of graduate students, but no one is hiring me because of it. I'm 61 years old. Been looking for work for 14 months now. I'm down to fifty-nine dollars and eighteen cents (looks like more when you spell it out, eh?) and what remains of my earthly holdings, carefully selected to be what's cached in my 10-year-old SUV when the wandering comes. The rent's paid up till New Year's Day, 2013. I have that long to find a job and salvage a place in survival's pecking order, fighting for a tender teat in the warmth of the middle-class's bosom.

    34 days. $59.18.

    Should I hope and strive and go down fighting? Or, should I use the time and energy to prepare myself for living in my car wherever the gasoline runs dry? With the creative abilities I possess, those same attributes revealed in single-space on my work history's manifesto, I'm quite confident that I can MacGyver a passel of indigent how-to's.

    Like recycling dental floss, rinsing it after use and hanging it to dry on the bathroom mirror ...
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