Future's End

Two months from today, I turn 50.

I have mixed feelings about this. Since Borders folded 10 months ago, I've felt rather stupid, small and depressed about the possibility of starting from the bottom when I do get a job. Then I think back to the years I pissed away not going to college and even getting a stupid 2 year associates business degree. That would have given me a better chance at getting something. Anything. 

Now, as I struggle day-in-and-day-out posting my resume to 47 different jobsites and getting no hits back from the place I'm sending it to, I resent my younger self for being so cavalier to think that I would be the lucky one; that I would have a steady job until I retire.

I admit that I never fully wanted to be the Captain, so to speak, of any job. I'm a worker bee, able to take orders, but fully capable of doing things on my own. I worked hard, played fairly, praised people when they needed it and made profit for a company, that as a whole, did not want to do.

But I also pointed out the flaws, the problems that my company faced. I offered advice on how to solve them -I do have ideas- but because I was clearly not a YES man, a 100% behind the boss no matter how hot the job got, I was considered a disruptive employee. I worked for a company that basically said, yes that wall is on fire, but don't be concerned with that. It'll take care of itself.

Well it didn't and here we are ten months later. I've not been on a interview since early June, I've had no calls about my resume, I've gotten threats from EDD about how incorrect I've been filling out my forms and paying bills and watching my savings (never had a lot to begin with) dwindle down. I have an IRA that I'll probably have to cash in before the end of the year if I don't start making money.

I've tried, I've tried. Everyday, looking on the internet, sending my resume out. Nothing. During the day, I don't even watch TV, just to make sure I keep focused on the job hunting. But nothing. 

So here I sit, two months shy of the big five zero. Sure, as my sister says, its just a number. And maybe if I was working, turning into my fifth decade may have been easier. But now, now it feels I've lost the game, outlived my usefulness. But this new number scares me. It haunts and teases me. And I fear, oh I fear, I've lost some game that had odds stacked against me to begin with.

And the fact that it seems I'm more afraid of success than failure explains why I'm out of a job, why I cannot get a job, and why I'll always be single. I'm my own worst enemy and I destroy everything that could make my life bigger, grander. 

I need help, but I'm unsure who wants to do it for free. I have no money to pay someone to help me, but I need someone to push, shove and pull me towards a better future. Because this wallowing in self-pity is fucking annoying.

Just like turning 50 and having no job is right now!