I recently finished reading Water For Elephants (which I loved, by the way). It made me think. What if my job, the one I've had for more than a hundred years; the one I go to every day and complain about every night; the job where my tyrannical boss "Mr. Fussy Pants" threatens to fire me on a weekly basis, goes the way of the traveling circus?
What if no one wants to buy a ticket?
What if I come to work one day and my services are no longer needed?
What if the services of my whole company are no longer needed?
It's not out of the question, considering the current state of our economy.
It's definitely not out of the question considering that I am a Mortgage Broker.
(I know, I know. Save the rotten tomatoes. I'm not the one who gave your dear old granny an adjustable rate mortgage with a payment that exceeded the amount of her monthly social security check.)
If I wake up tomorrow and the tents are packed, what would I do?
Where do out-of-work flying trapeze girls go when the circus leaves town?
Do they marry the lion tamer and live not-so-happily-ever-after?
Do they hop on the next circus train, and accept any job the new ring master is willing to offer?
Is it beneath a former star of the show to shovel elephant shit to pay her bills?
Will you find the washed up Lottie Aymar wanna-be in line for free food at a local church, smoking cigarette butts and reminiscing about the big top with welfare mothers and Vietnam vets?
I don't know.
If you have always flown through the air with the greatest of ease, what happens when you land on your ass? Can you survive? Will it be the fall that kills you, or the heart attack on the way down?
I don’t have any answers. I do know that if it happens, and if I survive, I’m spending my last two bucks on cotton candy because the circus may not be back again, so I'm going to enjoy it while it's here.