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Tuesday - 1:06 a.m.

Tuesday nights at the club where I bartend part-time really suck.

My tips tonight added up to grand total of thirteen dollars; a button, a book of spent matches, and a comb.

Finances could become an issue soon. School starts next week and I have yet to sign my new contract to adjunct this semester. It appears that I have fallen into the vicious circle that happens to most of those who choose to major in Philosophy with a minor in Elizabethan Poetry - you end up teaching college before you actually graduate from college.

Honestly, I'm just a part-time adjunct and only took the job to defer some of my tuition. Not that it matters since I took my original leave of absence from graduate school to search for the ones responsible for the death of my parents over a year ago. I don't have many leads, but I'm starting to suspect my crazy landlady, even though I didn't know her when my parents were murdered.

So, depending on when or if they schedule my classes, I may have to ditch one of my other gigs. The cardboard box factory and record store where I have part-time jobs are flexible with their hours, but the club wants me on Tuesday nights or not at all. Honestly, I only work at the club so I can pass by Elkie's apartment complex on the way home.

Tonight was cool and Elkie had her window open.

The breeze was blowing her thin white drapes inwards. It was like a ghost was trying to break in.

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