> I'll never forget the party cruise on which an unexpectedly big wave made me drop a tray of champagne glasses onto a plate-steel deck -- and the realisation, as I knelt in a puddle of champagne and broken glass clearing it away, that our delightful upper-middle-class guests were standing around the scene laughing openly at me and making loud comments about how stupid I was. I couldn't help thinking that these exact same people would have been fawning all over me if they'd met me in my previous job, where I was running the national branch of a company and making $65 an hour, and that thought increased my contempt for them by several orders of magnitude.

Stop wasting your time looking for a job and write your autobiography. It'll be crazier than most fiction.