Unemployed

In between filling out job applications where the only response has been don't call us we'll call you, I have been spending a great deal of time gazing through the many windows of my house. Wondering is there more to life than working and dying.  What is in between?  What is my purpose?  I have had about every job there is but no career. I feel as if the only thing I'm good at is lying in bed and filling out job applications. I always thought that I would somehow change the world. In college my grandmother told me, "Make sure they remember you!" I don't think they do. But I do want to be remembered.

So while staring out my window I witnessed something in between the incessant amount of delivery trucks, fire engines, and people. I witnessed a man I have seen plenty of times before during my most recent stint of unemployment. But this time was different. He entered a fairly new vehicle, uncommon in my neighborhood and reached into his boot handing the driver a wad of money larger than two fists. What was I witnessing? Parked in front of a daycare and opposite a public school was what appeared to be my worst nightmare. Immediately after the driver accepted his money he handed Mr. Boots a package. This one much smaller than the previous but just as illicit. Drugs. In my neighborhood. How surprising.

When we die there is always an obituary.  What will my obituary say?  Will it be lengthy or a brief, one hundred and forty words or less?  Somehow I need to be remembered. My life story has got to be longer than a status update.