walking the line

all around me people are losing their jobs.

for many this is simply a paycheck; for some this is their livelihood, their dreams, their being.

two and a half years i have worked in the field of architecture and design.

i would love that to mean i am a designer, or an architect, but in fact i am an accountant. at this point in my career my main objective is to collect money, which as you can imagine has become increasingly difficult. there are many days i feel as though my title should not be ar accountant but rather "excuse coordinator" and i have plenty of stories which would convince you this is true.

the reasons our clients can not pay our firm on time have become more disheartening with each passing month. the bottom line is simple: they have no money. the banks have stopped funding, and most people were careless in the beginning stages of their cash disbursements. mommy needs a new bentley, right? and daddy needs a new escalade? of course! we'll just use this business loan to keep up with the jones's.

before getting too carried away, i should get back to the main reason i began typing in the first place: job loss.

two words.

one meaning.

and an array of emotion.

i imagine being pulled into the conference room on dooms day; being tapped on the shoulder and asked to enter this room, where my final paycheck is laid out before me. i imagine how this might be the most ego crushing of all things and how i would most likely begin weeping like a small child. i wonder how each of us can give so much day after day after day, losing ourselves completely in the work we do, forgetting about hobbies and dreams and destiny.

for what?

the american dream has faded into a security blanket made up of 50 hours a week in an office, two weeks "paid vacation", partially paid mediocre at best health insurance, getting a pay check every two weeks, and hoping to avoid the conference room of shattered dreams the next time our financial forecast doesn't match our head count.