There is an old song by some oldtimer that asks the question I feel in my soul these days…
How may roads? he asks.
Tell me this, if you can:
How many applications?
I’ve heard people talk about the gold rush and how aside from the few lucky lucky enough to get out of the Klondike with their gold and those nasty enough to steal it from those who didn’t the majority of the wealth was made by the suppliers.
If you were selling shovels and wheel barrels and prostitutes and whiskey and blankets and tents and were smart enough to leave the prospecting to the gamblers you got out of the Klondike with a healthy return on your investment and a reasonable pot of compensation for your time and trouble.
So are there shovels that I can sell?
I do not want to keep looking for gold.
I do not want to start shovelling shit.
What am I to do to make a living wage and recoup my investment? My pension and savings are now gone, my future looking bleaker by the day, my guts starting to rot.
Well hell what do we do now when the future looks so dark the night has more light then the dreams that once kept me smiling through the desperation and desire to find a simple fucking job.
This is my first entry.
I am going to update it once a week.
My weekly updates will include:
- My latest job application count
- Analytical data like who responded and who couldn’t even be bothered to fucking acknowledge me
- Examples of the kinds of rejections I commonly receive
- Financial details that should help to shed light on the actual cost of unemployment
Oh yes, if you are one of my creditors… I promise that I will pay you when I am in a position to do so. Having debt collectors call me daily and sending me letters threatening legal action and what… are you going to tie me to a tree and scrape the value of my debt from my body? Maybe you can cook me, sell the fat and ground bones, but a judge will get no more satisfaction.
If my creditors keep harassing me there is a reasonable chance my wife will flee just to avoid the daily ritual with the rounds of calls from this debt collector or that.
I have your details on file dear creditors.
You will get your money when the world has once again turned the screw.
Until then please consider the effect of constantly turning the screws in my thumbs.
by the way guys… those of you creditors who knew better… yes, I did have some money stashed away. Its all gone now. Paid to my landlord to keep a roof over my head for three more months. With a bit of luck that will be enough time to find a job and get my shit sorted. If not I suppose there is always the possibility of getting into a hostel. If they are all filled up I can always throw myself upon the mercy of her majesty and hope for a bed, three meals, and a roof over my head through the winter.
Unemployment is unfulfilling
Dignity demands employment
When the jewels have been sold off at a fire sale and the barons fled to warmer climes dignity is a luxury
Have I lost the plot?
I just want a job!
searching for work 