I have been job-free for the past six months. Now that my unemployment benefits will not be extended (thanks to the heartless and hypocritical members of Congress), I have no choice but to get back into the rat race. I have a job interview today where I will have to put on my tap dancing shoes and wear a fake ass watermelon smile. I may as well hold up both of my hands to receive my new shackles. “Yes’m massa, I’s be a good slave”.
I tried to secure a job within social services because this field tends to grant you more freedom than the drudgery of big corporate gigs. However, after submitting a multitude of resumes, I get a response from another for-profit educational institution (my last wage slave job was at one of the largest for-profit universities in the nation). It’s nothing but another caged-in, tightly controlled position that causes one’s brain to atrophy under the mindless monotony, the ever-changing policies and procedures and the evil, glaring fluorescent lights. Why did I even apply to another one of these for-profit education corporate traps? Because I am broke as a joke and I am facing the possibility of being homeless. At this point, I’ll take anything that is thrown my way. This is purely out of desperation.
I was living my dream. Getting up every morning at a decent hour (between 8 and 10 am) since my kids are out for the summer and deciding how I want my day to go instead of waking up at the crack of dawn with burning eyes and blindly following the wishes of an employer. I could exist in pure sunlight, not the brutal, artificial lighting that exists in corporate offices. I don’t like being owned for 9 + hours a day, 5 days a week. You may as well say that an employer owns you on Sunday evening as well since it is the eve of the Monday work blues. The thought of going back to devoting 9 hours a day of my life to an entity shakes me to the core (Beware: the Entity will consume your soul; cue the eerie Omen music). I am actually in fear of going back to work and I am wondering how I will be able to find the discipline to stay put after being free for the past 180 days. If I did not have children to support, I believe that I would be crazy enough to say “fuck getting a job”. I’d risk losing everything to remain free to do what I want to do. I really wish that I could. In addition to being a dreamer, I am somewhat of a realist, however. I understand that wishful, philosophical musings will not put food on the table or put clothes on my children’s backs. Money does not motivate me as it once did, but I am not an idiot, I know I need a certain amount of money to give my children a somewhat decent quality of life.
It’s not work that I resist, it is control. In fact, I have been working a great deal since I have been job-free. However, the difference is, I have been working on projects that are meaningful to me. I have issues with a lot of people who have been given positions of authority who seem to have straw for brains. I have a problem with working to make someone else wealthy. I have a beef with giving up 5 days a week of my life just to be able to survive. I have a problem with the herd mentality that is oh so pervasive in corporate America.
I am totally to blame for my current predicament. I will admit that I am very late in realizing my true purpose and trying to consciously follow my dreams. It is up to me to totally divorce myself from the idea of remaining a wage slave. I am not fully there yet, but my plan is that my next job will be my last job. It will also be temporary employment for me as I will be working diligently towards voluntary termination ASAP. It is up to me to see to it that I will never have to settle for wage slavery ever again—even if it means living a more simplistic existence. Unfortunately, I have to go back into the slaughterhouse, but this time I have a way to get out before I am no longer discernible from the livestock who do not know any better.