Atomic unemployment

Day 01 of unemployment.  The atomic bombs have decimated the world but I still go out and look for a job, inexplicably yearning for that "dare to be great" moment when I can stand tall, employed, and bathe myself in the warmth that only radiation and being gainfully employed can promise.

The wreckage outside hasn't stopped my quest.  I am determined to work again.  I will rise like a mushroom cloud and the Phoenix and incinerate those who dare to stop me, like the gangs of cannibals that roam the alleys.  (Can't they see I just want to work?)  "No!" I say, "I will not cut off my arm and let you eat that piece of me so that I may pass.  I will turn around and walk away.  There is employment elsewhere.  I need not sacrifice myself for the sake of warmth and security, unless I am desperate, in that case, feast away.

It's enough to make a man want to leave his belongings to time, pack a bag, and leave.  Going nowhere in paticular is the aim.  It's like now, but instead of waiting years and years to finish the destinationless journey, I'd begin now.  Head down to Australia where large parts of the inerior remain free from fallout.  I'd ditch the pack and most of my clothes and wander and forage like an uneventful Mad Max.  But that life would be like this life, only the aimlessness would be more immediate and satisfying.  I'll stay put and offer my brains to the green glow of security.  My eyes are failing and I'm addicted to the haunting pulsing light, even though the night offers so much promise.