Quitting your job in this economy takes balls. Unfortunately, balls don’t pay the bills. If you didn’t know that already by use of your brain or your college degree, everyone and his brother feels the need to remind you of that small yet significant fact. If only I had a dollar for every time someone asked me one of the dozens of post-unemployment questions, I wouldn’t need a job. From what I hear, billionaires don’t need to work.
What are you going to do now?
Apply for jobs? Pray to all of the gods just to make sure I cover all my bases? Sell my soul? That’s a fine question you pose there. I would love to give you an answer, but unfortunately I didn’t get a degree in telling the future and I didn’t minor in psychic ability. If unemployment consisted of the good things, such as watching HBO and eating Nutella out of the jar, my life would be set. We live in an unjust world.
Want me to pass along your resume?
Sure! Could you also give your boss a lap dance to a Nickelback song with “Hire her, hire her, hire her” on loop, subliminally, for like, an hour? Anything to really seal the deal for me would help, and I assume you want to be a team player, right? Any tips as to what I should put on my resume before you hand it over? Something like, “plays well with others” or “will strip for food” sound good? Help me out here, man. I thought we were supposed to be friends.
Do you still want to work in [insert your field here]?
No, I just want to forfeit the last five years of my life, throw away my degree, and hope for the best. Who needs a college degree, anyway? I can just as easily apply to be an assistant manager over at Dairy Queen and live off of 5 Buck Lunches for the rest of my life. The DQ diet is a thing, especially if I quit springing for the Blizzard upgrade, right? Desperate times call for desperate measures.
Have you been applying to jobs recently?
Of course not! Why would I do such a silly thing, and make sure I can pay my bills and afford food? I told you HBO and Nutella is my new life plan. Why would I taint my days filled with wonder and chocolate ecstasy with tedious job applications and updating my strangely already overqualified resume?
How are you going to pay your bills?
I assume I will sell my body on the streets like any other red-blooded, American woman. I have a great role model in Julia Roberts from “Pretty Woman” and I hope that one day, I, too, will meet my Richard Gere, revamp my entire wardrobe, be a bad bitch, and live happily ever after. That’s the real American dream, right? Paving the road to success with prostitution, Nutella, and MA-rated television while just hoping for the best? That’s all we can hope for.