Gainful employment is frankly pretty excellent， I have learned. When applied correctly， it affords a person neat1） things such as a place to sleep and store your belongings， and meals on a daily basis. When it is especially gainful， as it has been for me， it also affords nice luxuries such as driving a car， purchasing provocatively2） named micro-beers， and occasionally travelling on an airplane.
It frees a person from scary things such as insurmountable3） debt and perpetual4） homelessness. Recently， it has come to the attention of the public that for young people in Canada it’s a scarce commodity.
I am a young person and I have been unemployed.
It’s frankly pretty awful. In the beginning it was just the sweet new fall jacket I couldn’t afford， or the Saturday-night trips to the pricier brewpub5） that I had to balk6） at in favour of retail-priced beer procured at the LCBO7）.
Then， as the weeks and months went on， I evolved into that boring friend who couldn’t afford subway trips outside my neighbourhood. Slowly but surely， takeout pizza became an unimaginable luxury. I grew truly and righteously outraged at the price of diced tomatoes in a can.
What could I do？ I went to university and got a degree. After university I went to college and got a diploma. Then I e-mailed my résumé to every company， non-profit and government institution with an online careers page.
My parents said “Hit the bricks8），” so I printed my résumé on paper and handed it to people in brick-and-mortar9） buildings.
My aunts and uncles said “It’s all about who you know，” so I called， texted and e-mailed everyone I’d ever met who collects a paycheque.
I posted on Facebook asking “does anybody have a lead on a job？” Three people helpfully suggested I apply at the nearby hardware store. I was a bright， self-motivated and detail-oriented young person， but it was and is a tough economy.
One summer during university， my cousin and I helped my uncle’s business reshingle10） my grandmother’s roof. My cousin thrived11） while I ruined my back for what will probably be the next decade.
That same year， I was thrilled to be brought on board12） with a company that provided supplies to plumbing13） contractors in the Ottawa area. My job was to assemble the parts needed for each order so that the shipping manager could package them for delivery.
I was terrible at it. My slim， 100-pound frame was no match for massive ceramic14） toilets sitting precariously15） atop 20-foot warehouse shelves. I piloted a delivery van into another province by mistake. My four-day tenure ended with the parting comfort that I was “probably too smart for this j
