Der Job Hoont
I can translate German. I can teach English composition at the college level. I can explicate Nietzsche, Henry James, James Joyce, and Vladomir Nabokov, among others. I can dream of writing the next Great American Novel. I can publish letters to the editor in the New York Times, among other newspapers. I can write a sonnet, Petrarchean or Shakespearean. I can even "process" baby pigs -- cut out nuts, tail, teeth, and give shots -- faster than anyone.
But I can't get a job. (And I know enough to be able to make fun of this journalistic convention I'm now using -- the "surprise turn" new paragraph.)
Neither Jess nor I are getting job hits. I haven't heard back from Dunwoody about the teaching job I interviewed for. Maybe I've got a chance. Tomorrow I'm going to a temp agency (but one for "creative and marketing" people").
I'll analyze my possibilities tomorrow, then I'll likely be calling around to local GNCs to see if they need people. I'll also call around to see if there are pizza delivery job openings. High turnover in both. Were I to get part-time work equaling 40 hours a week, it would be a definite step up from the current Poverty.
Surely employers are looking for more Experience (subtle Ralph Waldo Emerson reference, baby). The way things are going, I'm ready to enroll at Dunwoody or another community college and take their web development/web design course of study. I need Money (subtle Pink Floyd reference).
This is why people are perpetual grad students. A PhD program in creative writing is looking pretty sweet right now. I've still got my novel Empire of Hate to write.
For the while, I'll stand here, and cook, local, jobless, empyrean.