Desolate

Today I interviewed at a temp agency downtown. It was like walking onto the set of Honey Boo Boo, if Honey Boo Boo was filmed in 1972. The dust covered stereo components with oversized cloth speakers; the bits of dirt and debris on the brown carpeting;, the dented and dismanteled radiator boards covered in soot. 

“I do not have any jobs for you,” said the nice lady who interviewed me. She was being upfront with me. “We mostly staff manufacturing positions.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “I really appreciate you taking the time.” Then, optimistically, before saying goodbye, “If you hear of anything that might be a good match, please keep my resume on file.”

I have no idea who I am anymore. I am no one. I am nothing.

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