Rhetoric. How much do I love rhetoric? One time as an undergraduate, my boyfriend and I read something by Hemingway, something about how rhetoricians cannot be trusted. We laughed. We agreed. Yes, fiction, rather, was it. But now, I am studying rhetoric, something I’ve laughed at. This might mean I am no longer trustworthy. That is, unless I continue to work summers at the plywood mill, in which case you can continue to trust me, if you ever did to begin with.
Doubt/concern/fear/nausea aside, here is something that is True. I love my job. It sure as hell beats working at the plywood mill, and that Truth moves me forward.

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