Any Port In A Storm? Not yet...

I want money because there are things I need and places I want to go that I cannot afford. So far, my focus has been on finding "a job" as a means of securing funds.

The report widely promulgated currently is that the job market is booming. There's lots of "work" and lots of employers are hiring and lots of people are finding jobs.

So my claim of "I can't find work" is viewed suspiciously by some.

I want money but I am not willing to do "anything" to get it.

I have rejected some offers and ideas because I've decided I am either unwilling or unable to --

work for $7 an hour or work 40 hours a week at a job I don't like or work for a company whose ethics are questionable or volunteer indefinitely in hopes of some day being hired or commute 45 minutes to and from a job that pays $10 an hour or break the law.

I hated the desperation and stress of job-hunting when I was younger. Now I hate it because the process favors employers rather than job seekers. It is a patently dehumanizing and unfair system and there seems to be no way and nowhere to file a grievance.

Maybe this bothers everybody as much as it bothers me but apparently it's the only game running.

Is there another way to get money?

The Great Mystery

Last night I dreamed I had meticulously packed for a destination. The journey would involve several stops but I didn't know when or where or for how long I would stop.

I put my bags in my brother's car. When we stopped I wasn't sure if this was a stop on my journey or a quick stop he needed to make on our way to perhaps the airport, perhaps the train depot. He left when I got out of the car but said he'd be back for me.

It was a season of celebration, parades in the street that reminded me of Mardi Gras but people were only mildly enjoying themselves. No cheering or laughter or applause. Sitting on the floor in the main room of a house where women and children lived, I examined colorful art by children. All around me people were speaking in a language I could not identify. I saw so much that I wanted to photograph but my camera and suitcase and cell phone were in my brother's car.

Day turned into night and then stretched toward light again. I wondered if my brother would ever return. I wondered if I'd missed my connection. Only my joy in the children's art felt true and familiar.