Destiny

In the twenty-odd years I've been a working man - I mean working person - I mean - never mind. What I am trying to say is that I have only had a regularly scheduled job with a regular paycheck for three years. That's it. From delivering fliers whenever there were fliers to deliver, to the Odd Job Squad in High School, to my casual job as a sitter at the hospital whenever someone needed someone to watch over them, to background work and whatever random job I could muster to survive the slow times (though even the word "muster" seems too pretty for the wretched employment I scavenged) I seem doomed to the irregular schedule. Even as I hone in on new work (with a successful interview and testing under my belt) I realize I have been in denial of its sporadic nature. Serious denial; the job is labelled as "Casual." I know what that means.
But what does it mean? Does some part of me crave the unpredictable and stochastic? Did some molecule get tweaked by gamma radiation whilst I nestled in the womb, sending my income-earning potential onto a wibberly-wobberly trajectory? Is life trying to teach me to provide my own structure to this life, that like a futon from Ikea I must arrange all the pieces myself? How can I know?
A regularly scheduled job with a regularly scheduled paycheck. I had to harness a stormcloud just to type those words. Chance, Fate and Will; like peanutbutter, chocolate and my mouth. As the countdown timer marks how many minutes of time I have left on this computer, forcing a conclusion, forcing clarity of expression, of thought, damn two and a half minutes and I still haven't figured out my Destiny. Or maybe I've figured it out and now I have to figure out of it.
So it goes.