My friend Mandie was asking me the other day to recall a poem I wrote last winter on the subject of "selling out". I think this may be the one she was refering to. It's rather appropriate, actually, as I have just started yet another new job that I would put in the "for the money not the glory" category. I'm working at a car dealership, and my official title is 'service co-ordinator', which basically means I'm a clerical peon who answers the phones and sends out endless letters to get people to book appointments to get their cars fixed in the dealership, which shall remain nameless. Truth be told, there aren't many jobs I could take on that I wouldn't consider 'selling out'... Meh.