the conversation

Hey, can anyone help me turn the blog around so that the first post is last and vice versa? I know i haven't written in for a long time, but i did work on the book a few months ago and am updating that. is writing for one's own pleasure acceptable??!!

“Two years. He was a good boss. He gave me time off for exams. Now I gotta look for another job or I won’t be able to pay tuition.”
“Night school?”
“Yeah.” Glumly, I stirred my coffee. First, I lose a boss, then I have to lose my night school too. And I really wanted to be an accountant.
“Tough luck. Job-hunting is a terrible experience. I tried it once.” He shook his head to get rid of the memory. “It can really mess you up.”
“You never worked a job?” I looked up, aghast. Everyone works a job, even if it is at the local burger joint.
He appeared a little embarrassed. “Ah, well, not really, no. I mean, I could if I needed to. I went to college and all. Was on the track and field team. Made movies. I majored in business with a minor in international studies.”
“So after all this great education, you decided to become a PI?”
“Life should be interesting.”
“So are you putting major criminals behind bars? Filling a desperate desire to right wrongs in this distorted world of ours?”
“Not yet, no. Although once I helped Mr Ed keep Jack Walton from going to jail for murdering his wife.”
“I remember. They never found the killer, but Jack couldn’t’ve done it because he was busy receiving a parking ticket 20 miles away.”
“Which I detected.”
“Except Jack Walton paid Mr Ed a pittance for that case.”
“My needs are few.”
I eyed his shirt which, although now tattered, had once set him back a hundred bucks. “Yeah, right.”
He set down his cup. “Better head on down to the station now.”
We tossed the crockery into the bin, headed out.