Write of Passage Week #5 Challenge

I finally found time to complete a ‘write of passage’ challenge!

This weeks challenge was to write about a job, Which reminded me that I am really good at getting jobs, and then working and working and working at them non-stop until I burn out and quit on an exhausted and overly-emotional whim. . . Like the time I worked as a customer care representative for a cell phone company:

I couldn't do it anymore. I left. I logged out for lunch and all but ran, straight away from the noisy humid streets of downtown.

Past the buskers, the bums, past the business men and women in their grotesquely over prices suits. Walked tall and sure through allies and side streets, past the hustlers and the dealers and got out.

I walked to the cemetery. Though not entirely sure what drew me there. All I know is that when I slowed enough to look around that's where I was.

I threw off my shoes, and my jacket. The wrappings of my so called dignified life, and I walked by every stone with the souls of my feet meeting the cold soft earth. As though I could absorb, through the muddy grass, the soul of someone long past and forgotten,

the strength of a woman who's life began and ended with the world at war.

The innocence of a child, whose one day in the world hopefully brought his mother enough happiness to bare grimly his later loss.

The bravery of a family lost. Sickness perhaps, or an accident, one way or another, their love was strong enough that the rest did not last long after the first had gone.

I wonder about them. What did they look like? What did they do? Were they happy? Are they happy?

When I got home, after the chill that ran through my feet to chatter my teeth had gone. I applied for a job in a funeral home; which I was turned down for, apparently ‘Because I am sick of the living.’ was not an appropriate ‘Why do you want this job?’ answer.