People say, “Good luck.” And I believe that they are sincere. But I can’t help wondering if they’re also thinking, “Whew, I’m glad it’s not me.” They must be, some of them. I know I would be thinking that.
As I was leaving yesterday the IT guy at work asked me if I was tired of people wishing me good luck. I had to admit I was a little. Part of me wants to say, “Don’t wish me good luck. Find me a job.” Actually, a few people have given me tips. So…
People say, “Hang in there.” And right now, that’s exactly how I feel, as if I’m hanging on a ledge, dangling over a deep drop. Yikes!
People say,” Something will come along.” And they are probably right. Eventually, I’ll be working someplace else, a new job, a better one perhaps. But it might not be a better job. It might be a shit job. But a shit job is better than no job, right? Right? And sometimes I can’t help wondering, “What if nothing comes along? What if I am unable to find a new job, ever?” There are people who have given up looking, because they believe that there are no more jobs available to them. Of course, that can’t be true, but I bet it feels true. Feels true to me sometimes. I mean, I’d been looking long before I even got my lay-off notice and intensified my search once I did find out, but still nothing. Sometimes I wonder if it’s possible to fall through the cracks and end up unemployed for…life. Could that be possible? How could that be possible….?
But the possibility got me thinking. About a story idea. What if there were no more jobs? What if there were only a limited number of jobs? And they were, for the most ,taken, and you had all these unemployed people who need jobs but can’t get one? What if the jobs you see posted online are for the most part a lie, propaganda to make people believe that there are jobs available. What if it got so bad that the only way to get a job was to not only be selected from thousands of applicants and make it successfully through the interview process but you had to fight for it. To the death. That you had to kill the person who also wanted the job or already had the job? Could you do it, if it meant the difference between having a life and providing for your family, making sure they had a place to live and food on the table and clothes on their back, and existing in squalor and hunger, as if in a third-world country?
Hmm. Maybe that the premise for my epic novel.