Life has taken me down a rough and challenging road. I am currently on that road, dirt, pocketed with potholes, usually going uphill, seemly both directions, and no signage pointing to which way to go. Blogging has suffered while on this bumpy track, and my creative nature has taken a nose dive. Circumstances and the ongoing, entrenched search for a job have sheared out the side of my brain, participating in thoughts of freedom, adventure, creativity, having money that is not directed toward survival, and not having to continually search for a place to live, at least temporarily. The climbing count for different housing locations since I helped sell my mother’s home and became unemployed is at five.
I am on a lengthy journey to Douglas, Arizona, for a unique job opportunity. Beginning to steer away from jobs in metropolitan Tucson, with its deep pile of resume applications for any job posted, I am having more success in the faraway, smaller cities that dot the Arizona map. From previous chapters in my life, I have enjoyed smaller towns to call home. This job I am interviewing for is to run a library. A library in the Arizona prison complex in Douglas. No, it was not on my ‘usual’ list of occupations I have sought, nor was it on my backup plan. Books have helped shape my life, so the possibilities of changing lives are not much more profound than within the confines of a prison.
Riding along for the fun of visiting a prison is Eric, who I have somehow survived many adventures with. This would be far different from any other trip we have taken. I greatly appreciated having another talking head on the six hours of driving the backroads of Southern Arizona.
The interview went very well, despite having little idea of how it would unfold. I had another job in tow in Douglas, and we would veer the car to the Douglas Visitor Center. They had posted for the position of Tourism Coordinator. I had been in touch with the HR department that I would be in town today in case I could have an interview or talk with someone about the job. City Hall and the HR department would be the best I could do to show my interest in the position, and I would find that HR was unmanned. We decided to set up a base camp in the beautiful grassy area in front of City Hall and eat lunch. Having little cash and on a health rampage that included too many salads, I had packed a rather impressive, nicely packed king salad.
I had not bothered to pack a fork.
Forkless, hungary, and feeling that the lone spoon in my car would not take care of business, I set off to walk Douglas until a fork was obtained. I was running across some friendly people, but no forks. I was selecting restaurant-less routes, and the choice of a store where I could buy cutlery was slim until I realized I had no money. That pack of 25 plastic forks was not going to happen.
Finally meal time and that pictured fork now lives in my car.
