|
September 4, 2002 ~ The Nothingness
Wednesday.
This morning, the world was grey. It has been a long while since I have seen such a heavy fog. Beyond ten feet away was nothingness, in which an occasional large hulking dark shape would lurk, indistinguishable, just beyond perceptible reality. On our drive to work, I watched these mystery bulks loom up and fly past, swallowed by the nothingness. The world was cold and uncaring, and the grey uncertainty threatened to seep into the car and leave me utterly directionless and void of perception.
This is where Morgan is right now, I thought. The future is mysterious and vague, a large, grey nothingness in which hide mysterious hulking dark forms, uncertain possibilities. He is unsure of his next step, and the nothingness threatens to seep in and swallow him whole. Through that flash of metaphor, I understood, and it was terrifying.
The last few months he has been applying for job after job. There is very little available in Asheville right now. At first he applied for very high end jobs, knowing that he was qualified, but when he didn't get asked to interview, he started lowering his standards, and lowering his standards, and lowering his standards, until this week, when he started to look at secretary positions, delivery routes, and other low-paying, no-benefit positions.
"I have a college degree!" He exploded last night in frustration. "I can build professional-quality web pages! I fix computers. I build computers. I know just about every kind of software an employer could ever want. I have a great deal of artistic talent! I am intelligent, creative, and a good problem-solver. I have good leadership skills, I have public speaking experience, and I have been working since I was fifteen! I do professional graphic design. I can write with much more talent than your average college graduate, and I am a hard worker. I have great references, a wonderful resumé, and an impressive portfolio. I am an excellent researcher—one of the top five in the world in my field of research. But I can't even land an interview for a practically manual-labor job!" He sunk back in his chair, deflated, angry. His contract with the school will end in two weeks. His future is looking very foggy indeed.
We arrived at work and went our separate ways. I thought about how very, very lucky I had been to get a job that was perfect for me just two weeks after I had graduated.
I met him for lunch, and something was different. He smiled at me eagerly as soon as I sat down. The fog had cleared and it was now a beautiful, clear day. "I'm starting a business!" He announced. Through lunch, he excitedly told me his plans. And, honestly, they are very good plans. He has some wonderful ideas that really should work well. He proposes that he try this until our student loans come due, and, if he is not making enough money by then to get by, then he will re-evaluate his decision.
It's a chance. It's a chance for him to be happy while working for himself, rather than shoveling manure somewhere for someone else. And even if we will be living on a very, very tight budget for a few months, it would be worth it not to see that dangerous, terrifying fog in his eyes.
|
|
