Carnivale

Working for the carnival...where childhood dreams are played out. The dreams should have stayed inside.
It hasn't been what I'd hoped for. There isn't any magic. Just cotton candy. Very over-priced cotton candy by which selling causes people to spit at it's makers. But they buy it anyway. Like they haven't got a choice.
The "carnies" aren't people of Wimsey anymore. They are sad, disgruntled workers in a moving fast food chain. Loosing life to a company run by toothless wonders.
Being a temp pays well. I mean minimum wage plus .50 tip per day. That tip goes to the permanent residents of the carnival.
Slicing my finger gave me a promotion to snow cone lady from ketchup and mustard washer. Horrible cdc plastic snow cones. m mm. BUT, I loved every millapede of it.

Tomorrow I work again at the disgusting, FUNderful place. Stay tuned. ;)