Job Search

“So what did you expect with a name like that?,” the therapist continued. 

“Oh, I don’t know, I never put much credence in any of that stuff. They’re just stories. Biblical or mythological, what’s the difference?”

“Well maybe, but you’ve gotta admit it is a little weird, you being named for him. I mean ‘Job,’ what were your parents thinking anyway?”

“Apparently they weren’t.”

“So, how can we, you, deal with all this? How can you streamline your life to better slide uneventfully through your days?”

“I can try to maintain a lower profile and not draw attention to myself, but honestly things just seem to happen, no matter what I do.”

“Well our time is up for this week, but let’s try and work on some of the strategies we’ve discussed and we’ll talk about it at our next session.”

Dr. Galaway stood, extended his right hand for a shake, crisp white cuff jutting out from his blue blazer, clapped Job on the shoulder and opened his office door. “Next week, same time. It’ll be okay, I promise.”

“I hope so Doc, thanks,” Job said, exiting the room. 

***

“Your next patient is here Doctor, shall I send him in,” the receptionist’s voice crackled from the speaker. And in a lower voice whispered, “he doesn’t look so good today, just a heads up.”

“Okay, Olive, thank you, please send him in,” Doctor Galaway responded. 

“Good afternoon Job, how was the week? I can’t help but notice all the bruises on your face, what happened? Please have a seat and tell me all about it.”

Job limped over to the black leather couch and sat, wincing as he settled himself into a comfortable position. 

“Well, it’s been an especially difficult week, horrible actually.”

“Would you like some tea or coffee?”

“No thanks, I’d probably gag on it, the way my days going,” Job said. 

“Okay, tell me, please.”

“Well, it started when I left your office last week. I mean, things haven’t been going well for me for years anyway, but this week it just seems worse. It’s like the universe is conspiring against me. You know that character in the Peanuts cartoon, Charlie Brown, you know the one with the rain cloud over his head? That’s me,” Job said. 

“So you feel like the universe is bullying you, picking on you?”

“Yeah, I do. I know that’s silly, but some people do seem to attract bad stuff. Call it Karma, call it pheromones or just bad luck or timing, it’s a thing. It’s like misfortune is metallic and I’m the frigging magnet. Just this week my girlfriend broke up with me, she’d had enough of my problems and said she needed to get away before something awful happened to her. I really can’t blame her. I fell down an open manhole the other day,” Job pointed to his battered face, as if to say “duh.” “Lucky I wasn’t killed. My boss is cutting everyone’s hours at work to save money. My credit card was hacked. I dropped my iPhone in the toilet. I got a bad burrito at Chipotle and was sick for two days. Starbucks misspelled my name as Bob on my takeout cup. Okay, so that’s not a biggie, granted, but still!”

“Wow, yeah, not a good week, sorry, but is this typical for you, oh wait, you did say it was worse than usual, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, seemed so, and I was really trying Doc. I didn’t go out much and when I did I tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. It’s like the world has it in for 

me, you know?” Job removed his faded Chicago Cubs cap and ran his thick fingers through his hair in exasperation and they came away with small clumps of brown. “Great, just great,” he whined, “now I’m losing my hair.” 

“Okay, easy now, let’s try some experiments,” Doctor Galaway said. “I want you to change your deodorant and cologne. I want you to change your diet, try a vegan diet. Do twenty minutes of yoga a day and some meditation. Let’s try and change your mindset and your body set. Emit a different you to the universe you think is targeting you. Game?” 

“Sure, I’ll try just about anything if you think it’ll help,”Job answered. “Thank you.”

“Okay then, I’ll see you next week. Try the strategies we just discussed and let’s see if it makes a difference. Positive thinking!” He stood and ushered Job out of the office. “Olive? Could you please send in the next patient?” he asked, watching as Job slipped on the tile floor as he walked to the elevator. “Hope to God he doesn’t fall down the shaft,” he thought. 

***

“Job is here for his appointment, Doctor Galaway,” Olive piped through the intercom speaker and in a low conspiratorial voice added, “he looks better than last week.”

“Thank you, Olive, send him in.”

“So, how’s it going this week

Job?,” Dr. Galaway asked. Have you been following my advice? Have things been better?”

“Oh my God, so much better,” Job said excitedly. Yes! I’ve been doing what you suggested and I’m feeling really good. Except for a few minor pitfalls this week, it’s been okay.”

“Such as?”

“Well, my computer crashed when I did a software update, but I think it’s just that it’s an old model and didn’t have enough memory. I tested positive for Covid earlier in the week, so that  was scary, but I did two more tests and I was negative. Guess it was a glitch the first time.”

“And thank you for wearing a mask this week.”

“That’s okay, it also hides where I cut myself shaving the other day. New blade. I really did a number on myself,” Job said. “Other than that, it’s been,” he leans forward, looking side to side and whispers “quiet,” not wanting to alert the gods of mischief. 

“Well, that’s good news. Keep doing what you’re doing.”

“Definitely, Doc. Maybe, like you said, I’ve changed, oh I don’t know, my aura or something. Maybe it’s like I’m wearing a cloaking device of some kind, you know, like in Harry Potter, and I’m invisible to whatever power has been toying with me. In any case, thank you, and I want you to know that despite all my issues and accidents, I never lost faith in you. I knew you could help me and you did. You pulled me through.” 

“I’m gratified to have helped,”

Dr. Galaway said. “See you next week?”

“Yes, absolutely,” Job said, rising and shaking the Doctor's hand vigorously as he left the office. 

“Doctor Galaway, your next patient has arrived,” Olive squawked, right on cue. Shall I send Mr. Odysseus in?” 

“Odysseus? Oh, just great,” he sighed