I Should Feel Worse

This morning I applied for unemployment insurance for the first time ever.
   It was surprisingly easy, done on-line with a form that took fifteen minutes to fill out and submit. So, just like that, I join the ranks of those on public assistance, those sucking at the government's teat, so to speak. The great unwashed. I now have more in common with the local homeless folks than ever, and we were pretty tight before.
   Yet I am not troubled.
   I imagined that I would be more... resistant?... to filing for unemployment. Too proud. But the past decade of 'work' for various corporations has ripped all self-esteem from me, any semblance of dignity and honor long since left in a pile by the security door.
   Besides, I'm old enough to know how this stuff works; there's a pool of cash corporations contribute to every paycheck cycle, a certain amount for every type of employee. The money's there waiting to be claimed, an entitlement like Social Security, except you don't have to be old to get to it. It's a social safety net, and I've fallen from the trapeeze.
   So, no, I don't feel bad. I'm really just continuing a grand tradition. Just like Keats. Or Barney Gumble.