When I get turned down for yet another job interview, my thoughts drift to my material possessions. I have gloves to keep my hands warm. gloves! How many people out there don't have gloves their entire lives? I look to the Liberty Tax whores, males dressed as Uncle Sam, females dressed as Lady Liberty, dancing around on the curb trying to attract people to that wealthy brokerage office, and I realize that for doing that they're getting paid, and for the words I write here, I'm not. They can save up their money and move to Oregon or Idaho, but I have no freedom to do that at all. No matter how much effort I exert in any direction it seems, money even to survive is always denied. I'm surviving now; I have luxury, an owner, food to eat, a roof over my head, and gloves, but it's scary that if those ever went away I don't have any way to replace them or earn them back. Luxury without freedom or security, a gilded cage indeed.
Then I realize that many people don't have gloves their entire lives, and that's messed up! Nobody should be forced to freeze their fingers off just because they live in a certain country or they have a certain skin color! I know that gloves are not always a luxury, and it's a sinister and subtle lie to think that they are. When people say "be thankful you aren't worse off," they're almost always better off than the person they are chastising. It's just a way of asserting dominance, cementing classism in our society, and blaming innocent people for the problems of society as a whole.
Not every poor person deserves to be poor.
My nose is running, the air is bad though there are beautiful clouds in the sky. I need a shower and a hug, but only one of those seems to be around. I wish I could find a weekend job, but I keep screwing up like today:
I walked into the "Artesin Health Foods" store at 10:50am for my 10:30 appointment. Not exactly fashionably late, it didn't matter anyway. The lady said there was no appointment after all and she did all the interviews last week. Last week I had an appointment at 10:30am, but ended up getting there at 12:30pm. Needless to say I didn't have my interview that day either.
So today I was told they hired someone else, except the lady was too spineless to say so, so all she did was grimace and say, "We did all the interviews last week, I'm sorry." Yes, you can take your sorry sister, and I'll tell you what to do with it. You can go home to your house that you pay for, park the car you pay monthly payments on, and greet your kids that your salary enables you to raise. Then you can mark the calendar you bought with only 152 more days until that needed vacation of yours. Then on your paid vacation you can drive up to that mountain resort you've been saving up for, take your sorry and stuff it, while I sit here with nothing to do but journal, not allowed to work.
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