Thirty-seven days after my last final in my last class EVER, I still don’t have a job.
I moved cities, reclaimed my dog (who knew pit bulls are illegal in certain counties?), and accrued all kinds of fees (excuse me parking authorities, but I will be fighting all $300+ in parking tickets you have bequeathed me from the week of my move, thank you very much) … but still no amazing new source of income to boast about to family and friends.
I have reached the point of desperation. So, I’m doing what I normally do when I’m stressed: writing about it. Only this time, I’m taking a new approach and making my thoughts public, and I’m giving them a name: “(Un)Employed in D.C.” This is, after all, what’s expected of my generation, right?
I have to admit, I’m not one to normally peruse or write blogs, but the prospect that someone might ACTUALLY read what I have to say and relate to it or, even better, sympathize and react accordingly (give me a job, please), is just too tempting to pass up at this point. And, I figure, the more I write, the better my chances of finding myself distractedly browsing the internet and stumbling upon some career advice I may not have heard.
So, here’s my gripe for the day…
In all my desperate venting and crying this lack of something to do with my life has inspired, my mother uttered a phrase I never thought I would hear escape her ever-encouraging lips: “Maybe it’s time to sign up for welfare.” Don’t get me wrong, I am not even close to blaming my mother for saying what she said (from here on out it shall be known as the “unspeakable”); she, just as any other mother I have met, is simply concerned for her child’s financial well-being, and having no income is not a healthy path to monetary fulfillment, and certainly doesn’t pay the bills.
Here’s my issue with the notion of the unspeakable: How does a young woman who spent her entire life fighting to get an education and prove her value as a person (and employee) — to combat the constant reminders of her status as a statistic waiting to happen — end up in this predicament?
Maybe it’s a pride issue, but I was raised to be proud of who I am and what I can offer this world (and any employer). Welfare, in my experience, should not be the pot at the end of that rainbow, or even a pit stop.
So now I have some decisions to make. Do I keep filling out the dozens of applications I find every day? Yes. Do I broaden the scope of my job search to include customer service jobs, even though I already started doing that a month ago? Yes. Do I apply for government-funded financial assistance, when I really have a hard time envisioning myself as being “there,” even though deep-down I know I am? I don’t know.
Somebody … anybody … give me your thoughts. Two brains are better than one.