JOBLESS.
come on you knew it was coming. i'm jobless. at long last. and no, there are no prospects-which reminds one of a girl who's slipping quickly to old maid status. that could be me too. I know 30 is but a year and 2 months away. i can hardly think of what to do to commemorate the occassion, except to have imaginary conversations with my imaginary god mother (who of course is severe, admonishing, and holding a large fortune over my head) and it goes something like this:
GM: Do you have any prospects?
M: No.
GM: Do you plan to be a spinster forever?
M: No, I just-
GM: Yes?
M: I haven't found, I mean if you know of anyone?
GM: I'm certain I don't, but I will keep you in mind.(aside) Such insolence.
(She fans herself and snaps her fingers for the tea to be taken away and then the final damning thought):
GM: What employment have you found?
M: I haven't any godmother.
GM: Humpf. And what do your parents have to say?
M: Well, Godmother, Mother is forever patient and father wishes I were married so I could be out of his hair.
GM: Ha! Indeed.
I'm dismissed. It begins to rain as the maid shuts the door in my face. In a monologue that is wistful, comic, and pathetic at the same time I begin to check off all the things I could do to find proper employment and the more discouraged I get the harder it rains. I finally take refuge in a coffee shop only for there to be no seats. I'm turned out and a block later I trip on a crack, spill my drink, and look to see if anyone has seen me. No one has. I am relieved. When I get home I light a meager fire and dry my things. I press my head against the window and the list making begins again:
PROSPECTS:
Not Likely.
Find temporary employment.
Escape the country.
Not until September.
(We call that "going abroad".)
Find mail order husband.
No.
Find someone to pose as husband.
Mmm.
Drown self in the Thames.
It's been done.
Make more lists.
Make it all about you.
Make it about the new you.
The you that's going to get the man and get the job.
Continue to stare out the window.
Contemplate walking in the rain.
Discuss the alternatives.
Remember to bring an umbrella next time.
2 comments:
Soup for you, stone soup,
What you need dear child may be a fairy god mother. With a wave of her wand and not a snap of her fingers directing the maid's actions.
Go forth bravely into the world!
Is there any other way? I really don't think so. But that's the problem with foreboding godmothers holding large fortunes over your head- you can't stop them, and they've paid the fairy godmother to conveniently disappear in fairy dust.
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