Monday, December 22, 2008

Sob, Sob, I can't find a job

Ok, I have several forum boards and groups that I hang out in on a daily basis. I know the economy has gone to crap lately. But, 2 people with college educations, can't find jobs. One is a loan officer and one is a mortgage broker. I didn't know there was much diff.

Have you thought about changing your chosen profession? Surely what you're doing isn't the only thing you can do. Have you thought about lowering your standards? You might have to, God forbid, resort to manual labor. Nursing homes and hospitals always need help. Quick trips always need help. You might have to wait tables or tend bar. Maybe shovel a little shit.

When I needed or wanted a job, it has never taken me more than a week to find one. Granted they haven't always been glamorous, but they paid the bills.

You might have to do some shit you don't wanna do, you might have to give up the suit, tie, heels and hose, but at least you'll have heat, lights and food.

I get so sick of the fucking whining and pissing and moaning. I remember winters when my husband and I were so poor, we couldn't afford to get the gas turned on, so we had a kerosene heater and both kids, the dog, hubby and me all slept in the water bed together so we could stay warm at night. There were winters when the only heat we had was the wood stove. Thank god for electric hot water heater.

It's been a long time since those times. We did other things to get by too. Not wanting to be on welfare, deer were hunted in season and out. We ate the evidence. Family helped out too. Gramma bought us a dented freezer and gave us some meat.

Funny, but looking back, even though we were so broke we couldn't pay attention, they were happy times. They were happy because we pulled together and made the best of what we had. Friends were special, and if one of us got a break in the way of extra meat or fish or whatever, we shared it with our friends. We spent Friday nights, sharing what we had for supper and watching old movies together. Every other week on payday, we'd spring for a 12 pack of beer and play cards. Talk about a treat.

Those were the good ole days.

Glad I'm not there now, sorta.