(A liminal space is a threshold, or a place of transition and ambiguity. That can apply to many situations from the feeling of disorientation between stages of life or ritual (that strange time during major transitions where you aren’t in one situation or the other, I like to think about “The waiting place” from dr. Suess’s oh the places you’ll go), or to a more supernatural idea, like a place where the veil between “here” and “there” grows thin (for this i think of urban legends and fairytales, the forest where strange magic dwells or rest stops that don’t seem to exist).
Write a story about a liminal space, however you choose to define that.)
Day 23
Today is the day.
I don’t even know why I start with that. Since, shit, nearly a month ago I say that every day in the slim, unsubstantiated hope that it will be true. Then I write out my thoughts to this stupid journal. I’m starting to think this is an exercise in futility. But, such is life, right?
Each day that passes brings another rejection letter. Another forced attempt to be encouraging. Another instance of, “We’ll keep your resume on file for six months.” As if anybody does that. I don’t even know why I bother.
My wife is getting irritable, lately. She comes home and asks how my day went, and in classic Sophia fashion, she’s really only interested in one thing. Not my latest fun-filled session of Fallout, not my latest Civilization 5 game, where I’m playing on a higher difficulty and actually kicking Babylon’s ass. Not even in the fact that the house is spotless. She wants to know how the job search is going. What am I supposed to say? Sorry honey, I only applied to a single job today and didn’t hear anything back. One is the goal I’ve been shooting for. I’ve been able to reach it so far. But Sophie is starting to get jaded and cynical. I suppose paying all the bills must do that to a person, but she should still understand what it’s like. I’m trying. I really am.
It’s just hard when you get cut loose from a job after ten years. “Restructuring” is the word they use. Not life ruining change. Not how are we going to get by. Integrated Systems Incorporated can kiss my ass. Jake only got to stay because he kissed the boss’s ass for six years. I tell the boss how it is. I wish I could see things like he does, but I don’t have the benefit of having my head as far up his ass as he does. Good riddance, is what I say to that.
Each day is more pathetic than the last. I’m starting to lose hope. That’s not good; it comes through in interviews. I just need to hope. Today is the day.
Hmm. I just checked my email. I have an interview on Friday. Wish me luck, journal. Maybe I won’t need to write in here again.
MrZakGuy 