Dear life,
I get the joke. Ha ha. That was a good one. I’m amazed at the elaborateness of your prank, how you involved so many people in this thing. You are like “The Game” times a million. Bravo.
It was like you had me on puppet strings, the way you got me to focus on my studies in school with promises that there would be some sort of reward at the end of it. I did my best for you – state competitor in extracurriculars, top of HS class, great scholarship for college. You even got the college to shortlist me as senior of the year. Things were going well, a good high peak, you might say.
Then you had me sell shoes for years as I looked for jobs related to my major. You whispered promises of the baby boomer generation leaving their jobs soon, and there would be a glut of openings in every field. Still waiting on that one. Nicely played, life. I like the way you came in at the last second to ruin their retirement savings so they would never be able to leave their positions. Better yet, you managed to just absorb the jobs of those that did retire so that people are working 2 or 3 jobs instead of one, saving the company money on salary.
You threw me a bone with the newspaper gig, which took about 1 year to sap the strength from my soul, and another to pound the snot out of what was left. All the while, I kept developing my skills as advised – I learned to write quickly on deadline, to express ideas and feelings through story, to meet and interview people on the spot, to collect information and impart that information clearly to others. I like to think I got good at it. I’m still learning, but aren’t we all?
Every good story has some bits of relief, and graduate school was certainly that. I was once again in my element, where hard work is rewarded, and I actually thought perhaps teaching would be a good option. Hey, I’ve always been a good student, and my students seemed to be pretty cool with me even when they were getting bad grades.
That was one of the best twists, since you managed to set up a good system where way more master’s degrees and PhDs are produced than are needed in academia, which leads to a great Ouroboros system where colleges are getting people to pay for degrees and then turn around and work for those same colleges for less than they would make at an entry level job, and with no benefits. They make their own subservient labor force and get paid by people who want to get into that job pool. Genius!
The best trick by far is the way you continually dangle little rays of hope out there – life-changing possibilities that make me believe that maybe, just maybe, you don’t suck so much, that things can be better. The way you set it up so employers can take months to get back to you for an interview, then weeks to get back to you after the interview and still expect you to start the next day – well done. The way you set it up so we have to interview multiple times at the same place – masterstroke.
OK, life, you got me. You got me good. I tip my hat to you. You got me to work my ass off for the American dream that says hard work gets me ahead in you, Life. You even got us to believe in you so much that we dug a financial hole to cover basic medical, food, housing costs, figuring surely you wouldn’t stretch out the joke much longer. But you did, you took that joke all the way to the breaking point. That’s fucking commitment, my friend, and I double salute you.
I’m anxious to see what your next trick is. Perhaps you can have a fourth person leave my office so I can do four people’s jobs for the price of one. Perhaps you can continue to keep me in Fargo, where there are no opportunities for my Fiance. I didn’t think you would be so crass as to go for this type of kick in the balls, Jackass humor, but you did, and it’s been awesome.
I enjoy a good poop joke, as you well know, but there’s only so much shit you can watch one eat, isn’t there? I think it’s time to stop joking, Life. My sides are splitting. I’m tired of laughing so much. You got me, you got me good. Can we move on, please?
Sincerely,
Fargo Jones
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