Finding a job is for the birds.

Not that I'm trying all that hard. I kinda just don't wanna. After four months of unemployment I've become rather complacent and comfortable with the daily bouts of anxiety, depression, and food-gorging. On top of that, I have to maintain this adorable, can't-live-without, personality so my mark of the month feels better about letting me eat and live for free. It's been working so far. It is not as though I am not putting any effort into finding a job... It is more like I am putting the bare minimum of effort. If I submit 5 resumes I feel I deserve to dramatically clap the dirt off of my hands, job well-done, and play some online backgammon. If there happens to be nothing online on any given day I feel I deserve to dramatically clap the dirt off of my hands, job well-done, and play some online backgammon. 

Occasionally, I will take a walk wandering this way and that for anywhere from one to two hours. I'll wistfully stare at window panes, wishing ill on every business without a "Now Hiring" sign. I have a ridiculous fantasy that I halfheartedly expect to come true every time I go outside. I want a shop-owner to go on a cigarette break and make eye-contact with me. He will then feel compelled to strike up a conversation with me, initially impressed by the confident gait in which I move. After five minutes of genial conversation, he will tell me he is actually looking for an employee (server, barista, assistant accountant... whatever job I happen to be in the mood for, really) and I look like a nice, efficient young man and would I be interested in said job-offer. I accept after some mock-hesitation, we shake hands, I go home, and I dramatically clap the dirt off my hands, job well-done, and play some online backgammon. Too bad it really doesn't work like that.

Even in my current position, that in which I can currently afford absolutely nothing, I still, for some bizarre reason, feel I can afford to snub my nose at decent job offers. Well, decent they might not be, but a minimum wage doling, legitimate offer, they are. I went on an interview yesterday at a Mediterranean-themed hookah bar (really, though, does a hookah bar ever have any other theme!?) Seemingly unimpressed with any of my answers, O Job-Giver offers me a place of employment after a week of unpaid training (really, though, does a hookah bar ever pay for training!?) I accept the terms, we shake hands, and I come home. Exhausted from my two hours of being out of the house, I take a four hour nap. I wake up in time to watch The Karate Kid (kung-fu edition) before bedtime.


Today is the day I start my training! Huzzah! I'll be slave labour for some overlord for only a week then I can start raking in some $8 an hour plus tips! I'm so excited about the prospect, I do a load of laundry the proper way (versus the usual sniff-test/spot-clean) to express what a fully-functional, wage-earning, adult I am. At 10:30am I look up the bus route to see when I would have to leave. Ew... 20 minutes. My clothes aren't really even dry yet. I still have to shower. I've yet to take my mid-morning, I-just-woke-up-three-hours-ago, nap. Maybe I'll call him and make up some excuse why I cannot make it to my morning training session. My sister took the car and I can't get there 'til later?? No... My niece got sent home from school and I have to stay home until my sister gets back?? Still no... I do what my gut says is right. I avoid the issue altogether. Once I decided I wasn't going in after all, I scabbed over the fact I even had a job and started watching Scrubs while cuddling with the blanket. 


Ahhhh, this is the life. Almost-employed is just as good as employed... Without the benefits of money. Ultimately, though, rationalising or no, it would not have been good for me. In such a Muslim-rich environment, I have little doubt I would have had to subdue a part of myself... I mean, I would literally be within a stone's throw of, well, being stoned. And working for free, even with a tentative promise of employment following it, and even though I am only training, and even though I would be paid in food per shift until I was a full-fledged employee (which really was the reason I accepted in the first place. I would always accept food as payment. I'd be a disgusting whore) I just couldn't bring myself to go. That, plus I really am an intolerable bitch without that nap.