One Million Ants.
Like a million little ants all trying to get one crumb. That’s what the job search feels like. I want to be able to meet somebody and get plugged in instead of all this formal unfamiliar crap. I truly do hate it.
Sending my resumes over the internet to anxiously await a call from anybody offering me the opportunity to do anything. At this point, I’m trying to figure out why nobody’s called me, and who the hell they are calling. Somebody has to get the job. Or is this all a trick? Do companies get some kind of federal stipend for soliciting job applications? Do they get paid to “offer jobs” as a way to reflect a favorable unemployment rate? Maybe I should have stuck with the simple resume I did on my own. It wasn’t very fancy but it was concise and easy to read. I got “help” from a lady I work with who used to work on Wall Street. Apparently, she knows more than I do. I can’t say that my resume didn’t look professional and polished when she was through with it, but I don’t feel confident that my efforts are meaningful. Clearly, professional and polished are nonsensical quirks people in power tell you to have.
I used to look up to people with “good jobs”. Now, I always feel that they are strongly exerting self- proclaimed authority over my thinking. As if they themselves want to believe that their lifestyle is enviable. They sit tall and proud on their high ambitions as a worker when a recent college grad seeking their assistance makes all those credentials finally worth it. They smile and swell with pride at the opportunity to hand something down for a change. Bosses living double lives as workers, are we?
Truly, are they? What makes a boss? What separates the CEO from the receptionist? Daddy’s money? How ’bout Pop Pop’s? Or maybe it all stretches way back to when money meant something. And if today’s money has value, what makes them so rich? How do numbers compound to such extraordinary heights that the wee po’ folks is too far down to see? Or can we see? The key to riches lie right in our eyes. I don’t think I’m blind to it. Maybe, I’m setting my sights too low. I expect a teacher, a leader- someone, anyone to just tell me what to do. I think praying and waiting is the right thing for right now so I’m doing it. I feel dumb at times because my girlfriend argues that blessings don’t just fall out the sky. Well, she ain’t never met my God, then.
He continues to rescue me from the depths of irresponsible choices time and time again. He continues to expand my thinking. He broadens my knowledge and I haven’t read a book in years. I feel bad for not fulfilling the standards set by other people. I feel guilty for not having what other girls have. I feel lazy for being too tired after work to do things sometimes. God! I feel like I’m on my own in this big ole world. What am I going to do??
Little fish in a big pond. At the same time, one ant, one crumb, 9 hundred ninety- nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine reasons to doubt myself and my abilities.