As I was moving furniture around tonight, trying to set up my workspace to be a little more ergonomic, I noticed that my roommate, Mayday, and I have more black briefcases between us than two men should own in their lifetimes. I wonder about his briefcases, wonder if their experiences matched my own: Years of sitting behind shoes, in corners, collecting dust, and with a little black polish, ready to go to that interview and say, “Hey, I’m serious about this job!”
Times are hard now. More people that I personally know are unemployed right now than at any other time I’ve ever seen. In desperate times, a man will sell his soul.
I was talking to my neighbor the other night… no wait, I was on the phone. On the phone with someone. Somehow she said something about selling your soul. I had said I sold mine a long time ago. And I paused and reflected in my mind about the years that have come before. I have been fortunate.
I don’t remember who it was on the phone exactly.
I have an old dusty briefcase too, I keep it just in case I need to do another interview, it has been more than a decade since the last and I have my fingers crossed that I will never need to use the briefcase again.