i graduated a good six months ago with an "advanced" degree, and ain't got jack to show for it....'cept a headache....
i've applied for umpteen jobs (which translates into over 150)...most of which i'm more than qualified for (in my humble opinion)...so, what is an intelligent, hardworking, creative young-ish cat to do?
go street? become a lobbyist? teach english abroad? nay, i say! since the WPA is deader than JFK, i gotta make it happen...somehow, some way...and it appears that i'm gonna have to take a lesson from a slightly younger me....
Pain. Hatred. Disgust. Revulsion.
And that's all on your drive to work. But when you cross the threshold, your skin crawls. Sure, your job reeks, but isn't it supposed to? I mean, what's natural about breaking your back and/or spirit for substandard, miniscule pay? Nothin', that's what! Absolutely nothin'. But we trudge on because we have to -- well, most of us do anyhow. There are some folks that are willing to file into their office or factory because they enjoy what they do, if you can imagine that.
Unfortunately, most of us are financially married to our present mode of employment -- for better or worse. Hopelessly trapped in economic limbo. Destined to hold on for dear life and retirement. And as much as it pains me to go to work every single Monday morning, I know that to have a miserable job is better than to have no job at all.
In today's roller coaster, mysterioso, hit-or-miss economy one never knows when they will be sent packing (excuse me, downsized). And if you work for MegaCorp, you never know if you'll be a candidate for unemployment due to corporate malfeasance of Enron or Tyco proportions. But none of that really matters, if you're employed 'cause there's a gang of unemployed folks out there that want your crappy job. I know because I've seen some of them -- as I'm sure you have.
One day, while walking downtown, an elderly man asked me for some change. As jaded as I am, I couldn't help but feel the pain in that man's eyes. This fellow had obviously been on the streets for some time. I figured that somewhere in the well-worn history of this man's life his descent into hard times was most surely preceded by the loss of a job -- for whatever reason.
Now, living in Athens and trekking around College Square for more than four years, I've been solicited for my hard-earned peanuts (and I do mean peanuts) on many occasions. But that night, I lay in bed and cried quietly. I cried not only for the lives broken and virtually lost, but for the fact that it literally could happen to any of us -- at any time. You've seen it on the news, so you know that it's true (wink, wink). Companies start to sink so they throw their employees overboard in order to stay afloat and save the bottom-line. But in defense of businesses (big and small) this is all understandable. I mean, the big picture has to be realized in order to have a company that can employ people in the future. So we sacrifice a few unlucky souls for the greater good.
And while your employer probably wants you to give them five years, or 25 to life, they can't guarantee that a company will be there to benefit from your diligence and glorious work-ethic. WorldCom. Delta. U.G.A. The possibility is always there. Especially in our post 9-11 economy. So give thanks. Be thankful for your mundane, back-breaking, intellectually offensive job. And yes, be thankful for your crazy boss and your lunatic coworkers. 'Cause instead of working 9 to 5, you could be working the unemployment line.
No comments:
Post a Comment