If I've learned anything since my stubborn college days, it's that employment has more to do with 'who you know' than 'what you know.' I got my first job after college all on my own. It was a five month seasonal gig at a homeless shelter. Ever since then, it's been who I knew. I knew a supervisor at the children's behavioral center, a data entry lady at the architecture firm, the shipper at the violin shop, and now the editor of a weekly newspaper.

After explaining my recent unemployment, the editor mentioned that they needed someone to fill in the information for their Eight Days calendar. The job consists of about ten hours worth of placing, erasing and editing events that occur in Albuquerque and Santa Fe every week. Music concerts, theatre shows, festivals, receptions at art galleries, book signings, workshops for kids, lectures, and so forth. This is the new job, and it's not so bad.

In fact, aside from the lack of substantial income, it's about as good a job as I could ask for. I come in Thursday mornings and Friday afternoons, pound away for four or five hours, and I get to leave when I'm tired, bored or finished. As long as the calendar gets updated, they don't fret about how I get it done. It's darn near perfect because I am directing a play in the month of February and into March, so working full-time would not be conducive to the dozens of hours that await me at the theatre.

So I am now Calendar Guy! In actuality, they will call me an editorial assistant, but I think they made that up to make my duties sound professional. A funny little irony to this is that until a couple weeks ago, I was spelling calendar incorrectly. C-A-L-E-N-D-E-R, calender. I'm sorry, that is incorrect, Chris. Please sit at your desk quietly until the spelling bee is over. Of course in a country like ours, a man who can't spell 'potato' can be vice president, and a man who can't spell 'calendar' can be Calendar Guy.

While telling the ladies that I'm Calendar Guy won't endear me to their hearts, telling people I have a day job puts everyone at ease. For some reason, people suspect I'm up to evil if I spend more than a day inside my house. I'm just reading, writing and watching movies. But now with the knowledge of Calendar Guy, I know about bunches of stuff to do around town (some of them are free to the public!). The only catch is that I input the information for the week after the current upcoming weekend, so I'm already starting to see the world a week in advance. Calendar Man sees the future! He's just not so good with the present.

Employment is such a strange little beast. I've always enjoyed the complete freedom of unemployment. I've never trusted corporations or bosses. There's a little bit of the Enron mentality in the brains of most heads of companies, and I know they could and would screw me over without a second thought (in fact, a few already have). This keeps my dedication to the work force at bay. I haven't had health benefits since I loaded semi-trailers for UPS for a year in college. Never had a 401k, pension plan, or stock options. I'm a grunt, and I know it. Good thing I do other things than my day job, or I would be a sad sack of a human being. Don't quit your hobbies, Chris.

My Calendar Guy gig is not really a career as much as it is just another piece of the strange and evolving journey I call my life. But if this column serves any sort of purpose (and you did read all the way down to this point), it is that even freaky artists have to work day jobs every now and again.

Welcome back to the work force. Please bring two pieces of identification with you, or we will not pay you.

Chris Jungle still retains the title 'Dog Boy' from his years at the kennel.