belabored

He sits down across the wide table from me. Opens a very thick manila file. Shuffles through a stack of applications, and pulls mine out. Offers a few criticisms about the organization of my information, then begins: "So, what would your ideal work situation be?" He's not an employer, he's an employment counselor. And I'm about to get more counsel than I bargained for.

He waits, unspeaking, while I gather up scattered thoughts. I don't think he blinks. His neatly styled hair, sharp eyes, and no-wrinkle shirt are all steel grey. His jaw is square and he doesn't mince words. So I try not to, either. "If we're talking ideal, then I'd like to help people. Maybe to learn how to grow their own food, or to do something with holistic healing." These of course aren't the only answers to the question. Just two of the top ones that come to mind. He writes them down at the top of a blank page. "What action have you taken toward those goals?" he queries. I mention volunteering, reading, an occasional workshop if it doesn't cost too much. "What is your plan for getting to the work you want to do?" he continues. Okay, now we're getting to the heart of the matter. Now we're getting to the questions I really don't have answers for.

He continues, with a very predictable list of the actions he recommends. Devote serious time to job-hunting. Be optimistic. Get out there and "sell yourself". Be assertive: keep contacting the employer until you get a definite answer. All great advice, by the book, I know. And all concepts that I thoroughly don't relate to. Especially not when the jobs in question are menial, low-paying, drudge work. He asks why I didn't finish college. Wow, that's at least 3 different stories. He offers the feedback that I'm displaying a certain amount of "reluctance" toward his suggestions. Yeah, you got that right.

He tries another tactic. "I'm going to tell you about a few of the jobs that are available right now. Maybe something here will raise some interest." He leafs through the list. It's probably more than a dozen pages long. He reads, File Clerk. Auto Dealership Receptionist. Hospital Staff. Construction. Warehouse. Call Center Representative. Wow, how could I refuse? I gather up what I hope is a polite voice, out of growing discouragement. "I hope I haven't wasted your time," I say. "I do appreciate the information, but this has clarified something for me: making money is not nearly as important to me, at this point, as job satisfaction. As doing something I can relate to." It feels good to say this. It feels true. Even if it's irrational. Even if it means that I'd go on relying on the generosity of friends, or start sleeping in my truck if need be, if that's what it takes to keep my peace of mind. My sense of not "selling myself".

"I have to say," he remarks, "that you don't fit the demographic of my typical client. Most people are in here worried about feeding four kids, and willing to take any job they can find." He speculates that the difference here has to do with "education" and "affluence". I've been trying to be a polite listener, but this is too much. I tell him that I am grateful not to have a family to support. But that I'd like the record to show that I paid for every bit of my college myself, and have never had income above the poverty level. That I'm simply tired of meaningless labor.

We agree politely that maybe I'm not the ideal candidate for his program at this time. He gives me his card, and invites me to call anytime in the future. At the end of my ideas (having already read today's job ads), I drop by People's Flowers. Just to let them know I'm still available for work. They offer me a share of the afternoon's deliveries, on the spot, and another day of work tomorrow. Sure, flower delivery isn't saving the world. It's not empowering anybody - well, let me qualify that. I could tell some pretty cool stories about all the people who weren't expecting to get flowers. It's sharing a tiny bit of beauty. It's preserving personal autonomy - one of the biggest plusses of any driving gig. It's supporting a locally-owned business. It's reminding people of their sense of wonder (how many times that same response, "Ohhh...how beautiful!" But they really mean it.) I might put out a wish for this particular temp job to turn into something. Or at least to turn into more temp work. In the currently frantic game of musical chairs that is the job market, it wouldn't be too bad a place to land.