Today marks one year since I started my job. The time last summer that I spent unemployed recedes further into the past. My memory of that time, accordingly, gets rosier and brighter. Good thing this blog is still out there, reminding me of what a boring time that actually was. (Actually I notice I had a recurring tag, “Boredom,” that appeared in a lot of posts.) I played a lot of Tecmo Super Bowl in those days.
I usually let anniversaries, birthdays, holidays, etc. pass without too much reflection (because I like to do my reflecting when I want to, not when some fat cat tells me to), but on this one I’m struck by how fortunate I am to have a job. Straight up.
Coming upon this post from that other blog, I’m reminded what an odyssey it was to temp and to look for a permanent job (and to try to do things like write and have a post-MFA social life afterwards). Work is not inherently fun, but stability is nice. And this is all without reference to the economic crisis or the current shortage of jobs; considering how many qualified and over-qualified people can’t find work only compounds my sense of being incredibly fortunate. (It might make me double-super lucky that I wasn’t looking too hard for work when I got this job; one of my old co-workers opted to go to law school and my former bosses thought of me.) Anyway, I suppose this note is along the lines of the ads I used to see in the classifieds section of the Philadelphia Inquirer, thanking various saints (I think St. Jude is the default saint, but what do I know) for gifts received.