I had registered for a local career fair on the day that Learning Tree decided that I was a leafless branch that needed to be cut. In preparation for the event, I used up most of the credit I had on my Wal-Mart card to buy a new outfit, one that I could readily use for any subsequent interviews that would (hopefully) follow.
I stayed up last night and printed some resumes, filled out some paperwork, and got mostly everything in order. Despite it all, I still wasn’t mentally prepared for the jobless cattle call that wait for me.
Part of what brought me down was the prospect of having to wear a suit–or at last a suit jacket–for the fair and, quite possibly, for the job I may have gotten as a result of my interviews. As I had mentioned in yesterday’s post, I don’t dress to the nines very often. I absolutely hate it and when I do, somebody had better be in a coffin or walking down the aisle. (One in the same, some might argue.)
So I woke up this morning and took a shower then got dressed in–not necessarily in this order–those ugly black leather shoes, that damned tie, that itchy dress shirt, those god-awful slacks, black dress socks, that stupid suit jacket. One look in the mirror confirmed it: I looked like Vinny, a used car salesman that would rob you blind if given the chance.
Already feeling unmotivated about the day (but feeling like a complete tool), I headed on down to the career fair at a local hotel. I patrolled the parking lot and realized that there were no spaces left. Not one. I then made my way around the back of the hotel’s meeting rooms and saw a line that stretched from there to Terre Haute.
After reviewing a list of attendees, none of which I was very interested in talking to, I left the parking lot and headed home.
Along the way I got to thinking about things, mostly about how I’m tried of the daily grind of working for someone else. I’m 40 so my life is statistically half over–or it’s only begun. I’ve come this far without having to wear an itchy suit for a job and I’d be more than happy if I this trend continued. That’s where the whole work-at-home or home-based business thing starts to come into play.
I was alone when I got home but needed to vent myself. Ozziekat was sitting on the bed while I changed out of that damned suit.
“You know what, Oz? I’m done,” I said to him, smiling, as he lay there yawning which…seems to be what everybody does whenever I open my piehole. “I’m tired of the corporate bullshit. I’m tired of everything that goes along with it. I’m not getting any younger–it’s time to do something for myself.”
Ozziekat slowly awoke from his slumber, probably wishing I would just go away. Or feed him.
“Yeah. I think I’m done. I don’t know what I’ll do but man, I need to do it.” Ozziekat began to purr. Holy shit, I was conversing with my cat.
So I’m still thinking about what to do but in the meantime, I’m still applying for jobs online and in person. In fact I have an interview tomorrow and yes, the damned suit is ready and waiting.
“So, uh…can your ol’ pal Vinny interest you this bee-you-tee-ful a 1992 Nissan Stanza?”
Now playing: Stone Temple Pilots – All In The Suit That You Wear
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