The Depressed Domino Guys and The Peril of the Modern Economy

Everyone has jobs that they hate. I recently have had a slew of them. But what does that even mean? How can we hate something that gives us money to survive? Have you ever met an unemployed person? A homeless person? I mean I sometimes think the main dictum running through humanity's lifeblood on any given day is the tension between those who have and those who do not have, and those who have jobs are inevitably fighting every day to not be on the opposite side of that sword, the "I Don't Have a Job" school. So then our lives are reduced to our job or, as is often the case, JOBS, plural.

I recall writing a premature blog post back in college about my job anxiety:

What is a job to me? [12 May 2005|10:23am]
I scan the headlines of the newspaper obsessively for articles having to do with the unemployment rates. I half-heartedly glance at the classifieds. I skim Craig's List part-time jobs with no intention of applying. I even read the Sunday Times Employment supplement ("Job Market") to get an idea of what industries are on the decline, what aren't and interesting "hole-in-the-wall" type employments that charm people and give them hope.
And yet, my one page, inflated resume had only be distributed to on-campus jobs and a few off-campus internships. I have no intention of going and getting a part time job just yet. But I obsess with this idea of perpetual unemployment. Yes, yes. Mommy never had a stabled job, my father, as I know it, had none, my sisters, save Kate, don't make money doing what they love. My brother seems to enjoy his sporadic bouts of employment. Yet, instilled in me is this idea that money is scarce, employment hard to find, and when found, must be held on to despite its downsides, because of its very rarity.
The class on globalization I took has given me alittle perspective on the decline of real jobs with benefits (something I'd never encountewred before, though apparently before the late 70s and 80s, it was common for many Americans) and the replacement of contractless, fragmented labor. So, my suspicions are not without warrant. We are living in an unstable era, and what is most at stake is our financial security.

Yet, I do have time. I have time to stave off this paranoia. I am not yet graduating from college. I have have time to think and ruminate and mope and hope and smoke dope (if I choose, but do I....?) before I actually have to face the real world. Though, the phrase "facing the real world" really infuriates me because I feel that there is no dividing line between ones various lives. If you live every day anticipating this real world, you will be disappointed when it turns out to be much like your past reality, with a few sharpers edges, a few disconcerting details. Like the smell of fried chicken wafting into your rented room. Or the turning off of your lights and resorting to candles. By "real world" do people mean disappointment and misery? Because you can have that in any world...

JOB. J-O-B. Work. W-O-R-K. Anything can constitute these things. But will they ever make up me and who I am completely? I have yet to find out.

End quote. That was me as a first-year in college. Now I am a first-year in the "real world" and I have something to say about this distance. It has to do with the Depressed Domino Delivery guy and how he pulls at my heart strings and makes me think about my life and his life and their differences and, inevitably, the future.

The Depressed Domino Guy might be retarded I don't know, but his dejection is severe when he comes by weekly to hand off a pizza flyer to me.