You know how sometimes it feels like the world is kicking your butt? The whole world, I mean. And kicking hard.
It’s been that kind of day. I’m nursing my butt, trying to find a comfortable place to sit after wrestling with a fax machine, two computers, a phone (with four lines), and a very irritating staple remover. Clerical work is just not my thing. So I turned down what might have been a pretty decent evening job administering GED tests just for the sake of having more time to look for full time work. Real work, the kind that satisfies about as much as a Snickers bar. Maybe more. I want the kind of work I can look forward to, something that will give me a reason to get angry (if need be), something that won’t make me feel as stupid as I do on days like today when I lay on the floor in my office in hopes that the ceiling will fall on me because I cannot get anything to function and I really don’t care if it functions at all because even when things do go swimmingly I don’t get any satisfaction out of it and then when I am laying on the floor hoping it’ll all go away or finally come crashing in on me someone knocks on the door and in an overly cheerful way asks how I’m doing and I lie and say that everything is fine, everything is real good and I hope they can see through me just as easily as I can see through them and I begin to wonder if maybe there are people who really really like retail and I wonder even more why any one would be drawn to such a job and what it is about that kid of work that they like and I begin to think about how humans are meaning seeking creatures and that there is no meaning to be found in this job–not for me anyway–and I think maybe there is something wrong with me, some reason I can’t find meaning in any of this and then I think Ha! I was just lying on the floor and you knocked on the door and damn I’m glad the door was locked because what if it wasn’t?
Something, somewhere, has got to give.