As I write this there are seven hours left in the year 2017. This year can't end soon enough.
On a global scale, we have a fool for a President and a critical mass of people who are willing to follow him without question. Those who have reservations about Mr. Trump seem all too willing to look the other way when get their 30 pieces of silver be it a tax cut or a judicial appointment. On the other hand, many of those who oppose President Trump thumb their noses at his supporters instead of trying to change their minds. It is a crowd which equates speech with violence and is so narrowly focused on identity politics that it cannot see the big picture.
Of course, at the end of every year the world is full of war, poverty and terrorism resulting in anger, misery and sadness. So what makes 2017 different from any other year?
In years past, I have been able to deal with the world's shortcomings because I had a place in it. As 2017 comes to an end, I don't know my place in the world. Despite the impending Trump Administration, 2017 began well for me. I was published in National Review Online for the first time and would write six articles in all. Although I didn't care if I never got paid to write an article again when I left The American Spectator in August 2016 I would be lying if I said this didn't give me a certain amount of satisfaction. Then there was my paralegal career. I had begun that career in September 2016 as a federal contractor with the U.S. Department of Health & Human Services, Office for Civil Rights. I discussed that career with the Director of the Paralegal Studies Program at Boston University back in April.
But then while I was visiting my Dad in New York City, I got word that I had lost my job. Honestly, I thought I was going to be promoted. Nearly six months has passed. This is the first time I've written about this ordeal. I have refrained from doing so because my troubles seemed trivial compared to those who lost their homes during Hurricanes Harvey, Irma & Jose and those who lost their lives while attending a church in Texas, attending a concert in Las Vegas or getting shot by the police opening the front door in Wichita, Kansas. I have life and have a roof over my head.
Nevertheless, things have been quite stressful. After nearly half a year, I have applied for more than 325 jobs and have had more than 20 job interviews (excluding meetings with legal recruiters) and have nothing to show for it. My age is beginning to show to employers. This state of affairs cannot continue indefinitely. Something will have to give in early 2018.
This setback has not been entirely negative though. I went from 185 pounds to 158 pounds on what I call the stress and swim diet. I've been able to swim 100 laps a week at my local pool while eating far more sensibly. Lots of veggies and whole grains, less added sugars, a little fish, very little poultry and no beef. Despite what prospective employers might think, I am in much better shape at 45 than I was at 35 and am better condition to deal with what is in front of me. For once, I won't have to resolve to lose weight in the New Year. I can be content to resolve to continue what I am doing.
For me the New Year doesn't truly begin until I've spent the day watching Marx Brothers movies. So on January 1st, my roommate Christopher Kain and I will head to the Brattle Theatre in Cambridge to begin the year with a laugh. Perhaps it will do me a world of good on January 2nd when I have my first job interview of the year. Hopefully it will be the one which removes me from my current litany. If it does then perhaps it will beginning of good things to come for me in 2018. In which case, I hope such good fortune can be shared. Happy New Year.
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