Today I received a small piece of paper with a number on it and my name and the phrase "Payable to."

A paycheck.

I'm obviously used to it, being old and all. I remember my first day working at McDonald's in Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin. I looked up at the clock after three hours of work and thought, "Wow. I've already made $10." My wage there in 1984 was $3.40 and hour and then during my first internship at the Chippewa Falls Herald-Telegram in 1989 I made $3.35 an hour." 

I don't complain because so many newspapers no longer have paid internships.

But more important to me is that I'm back in the game. I'm working. Hard. I face challenges I've missed in the last year and there's nothing better than fixing a problem.

Oh, one thing better: turning an angry person into a happy person.

For the long layoff period, I ended the day exhausted just from being exhausted.

Last Friday, I was tired because of a busy and productive week. That feels good. I like work.

Peace and fulfilling labor unto all of you my brothers and sisters.