Counting my non-blessings and thinking about my non-life have become my two latest and only passions. As I write, David is sitting next to me watching Star Wars and studying for his work exam that is the day after his birthday, September 7.
You know. Because he actually has gainful employment and goes to work everyday and is fulfilled and stuff.
Unlike moi, an increasingly malcontent imp who lays around our teeny apartment in a fog of lethargy.
Being jobless since January did not really hit me until I moved to Texas, since until May I was preoccupied with trying to graduate and missing David. Somehow I assumed that once I graduated I would be flooded with job prospects. Foolish. I probably picked one of the worst majors for that dream to be a reality, and now I am dealing with the hard and painful fact that I have a degree that is virtually useless in a military town in central Texas.
I am not and will never be qualified to fill any of the following positions that are most popular around here: tank mechanic, sheet metal cutter, nurse, insurance salesperson and finally restaurant employee of some ilk or another.
These are the reasons why I am not and will never be qualified: I shouldn't be allowed to work in the underbelly of a Matchbox car, let alone a tank; I'm less than accurate with a pair of safety scissors; I failed high school (and college) biology; being in sales of any kind robs you of your soul and makes you into just another lemming for The Man, or whatever; I would most assuredly spit in someone's food if they threw me shade.
I'm not asking for the world with a fence around it (Copyright: my Mom), or an executive suite in the top PR firm in the country with a view of the city skyline; or even an entry-level position with a view of a parking lot. At this point I would settle for subterranean-level with no lunch break and a view of a cubicle farm.
All I know is that I love to write; I love non-profit work and I love certain aspects (read: the fun ones) of the public relations industry. Writing for my college's newspaper showed me that news reporting probably isn't for me, but I still love the thrill of seeing my work published. So who knows where life will take me from here. I'm just along for the ride.
someone please hire me
