I've now been unemployed for more than a year, and the thin odour of desperation is now beeginning to eexude from me, mingled with my perspiration. Thanks but no thanks letters to my job applications have now become so routine I expect nothing else, and have mostly stopped applying for jobs where I have no prior personal relationship with anyone in the organisation.
Its not just jobs where I have some expertise that I get turned down for, but any kind of job including 'menial' ones. [Of course no work is menial, but I did not get the postmanjob I applied for, or the driver position with an aged care outfit.] And not only do I get turned down from them, I simply never hear from some organisations, be it a nursery needing someone to distribute plants to hardware stores, or the white ribbon campaign against domestic violence. (well the white ribbon campaign I did get a telephonic interview during which I questioned the efficacy of the campaign and predictably never heard from them again. In Australia thinking out of the box is punished swiftly and as inevitably as dogs, rabbits, red foxes and camels have replaced quolls and lesser bilbys.)
I apply, and then there is the deafening silence of the intake of my breath as another bill arrives in the mail. Scary stuff.
And yet I still wish to write freely and creatively, even though the basic survival needs of my family scream for my attention. Ah, what is it I am not seeing?