Get a job ya bum...

Portishead and vodka, this is what this day has come to. That's what my secrets have made this day. Secretly I'm a fucking superhero, the sky is purple, I'm everything I want to be and my female organs haven't turned on me and decided they want things. It's only natural to feel disappointed when you realize you're not the superhero you thought you were. These are the sour times and I am a wandering star. Where does that get me? Fucking nowhere. I've been pumping my resume out like a hooker gives out handjobs for the last few weeks. What I have to show for it is a job that is everything I hate about the state of corporate america. Allow me to break it down for you kind folks, 1 hour interview to see if I should get an actual interview. 1 hour for the initial assesment and personality test. 1 hour for the secondary assesment and personality test. 1 hour for the actual interview. 2 hours for the "you got the job, now we want the last ten years of your life" paperwork and 30 minutes for the you could be a junky piss test. So not including the travel time to the individual interviews and the paperwork session from hell, I've already given them 5.5 hours of my life plus permission to dig ten years back into my life for whatever scandelous shit they're looking for. All this just to prove I'm worthy to pick up phones, be nice to people, and join the machine like all the other worker bees. I passed all their tests so far, I mean the drug test hasn't come back yet but I'm a drug free worker bee. No really I am, but passing all these tests hasn't made me feel good, I'm not excited about embarking on my exciting new job as a call center rep, I'm fucking disgusted that I've sold out to, not even the highest, just the first bidder. More than that I'm distraught that my immediete choices are either to sink now or drown later, succumb to the khakis, become the "ideal employee", plaster the fake smile on and pay my fuckin bills or hope for something better. The thing about hope is that it has around the same nutritional value as piece of chalk.

People say "congratulations" and "oh you got a job how great" or"I'm so proud of you!" and after six months of sucking the good ol' unemployment teet all I hear is "took ya long enough", but thats just the little guy in my head that's not what people really think. Or is it? What do "people" really know about where I've been these past few months? Proud of me for what, livin the american dream? Worshipping the almighty dollar so I can get out there and consume the almighty product? I didn't write a bestseller or ride a motorcycle across country, I joined the rest of the unhappily-employed in a rigged ratrace that will eventually land my right back in burn out city with a trigger happy tongue and the same hatred for everything around me that shut down my spirit and killed my worker bee mentality the last time. Misery loves a little company and a big company feeds on misery, starcrossed lovers they are. Whats that you say? A means to an end you say?Three years from a degree to set me free, three years of plaster and koolaid transfusions, three years of chalk and all I see is dust coming out of my mouth as I tell myself I don't have to love it, just do it, like the ad says.

I've lost everything and been free and now its two steps backwards to get to the shiny place in front of me that keeps spitting out hope. Hope is free and anyone can afford it. I've been stockpiling it though its not quite feeding my soul. Then again who really needs a soul when they can have things and stuff to fill the adventure void left by all this american greed. The machine may pay my bills and it can have me for the 40 plus hours a week but i'm only drinking the koolaid because without it I can't continue choking down this pasta. Cheap as it may be pasta and the air sandwiches that go with it, much like hope and chalk have no nutritional value. I miss having money, I miss broccoli and movies, I miss clothes that fit and having money in the bank but mostly I miss being able to take care of myself. In all this I've found myself and even if people don't know, I know. Knowing the rules is the first step to getting where you're going, I am my own evolution. I am no where near complete and this is just a means to an end. No one ever says I want to work in customer service when I grow up, but people, they do it. I'm not people, I am a superhero.