Jim Carrey, a.k.a. “Lloyd Christmas,” said it best after losing his job as a limo driver in “Dumb and Dumber” and coming home to find his parakeet, Petey, had been decapitated:

“There’s not a single job in this town ...”

In a way, I think that scene mirrors what many college students and I living in Mount Pleasant face each day.

OK. Maybe our pets’ heads aren’t falling off (or are they?), but all I know is that it’s harder to get a job in this town than it is to pick up a Delta Zeta at the Pub on a Thursday night.

When I first entered CMU in the fall of 2000, I was a cheery lad, optimistic and still naive to the harsh realities of the world. I thought I’d be able to find a decent job and work my way through college, but man, was I ever wrong.

Now that I’m in my fourth year living in this desolate hole of a town — broken and spiritless — I’ve noticed a couple things about the job market here: It sucks, and it blows.

Now, is it possible for something to both suck and blow at the same time?

Only in Mount Pleasant.

It seems that in order to land some work in this town you have to stay here through a boring uneventful summer, relentlessly pursue a job and stay on staff into the fall. Even then, the odds are still against you landing a decent gig.

After filling out about 20 or more job applications a semester without response, I did what any broke college student would do in my situation — I lowered my standards.

I don’t even want to admit to some of the places I applied to work at, but I will say this: I never considered Save-A-Lot or the Family Dollar. I swear.

What was most frustrating was walking into a store and seeing the severe incompetence of employees working at the same places I had applied to and never heard back from.

“What the hell is going on here?!” I would often think to myself. “Fire them! Hire me! What the hell is wrong with you people?!?”

By default, I spent my first two summers back home as a lowly 7-Eleven clerk. It was a good gig. I met tons of sexy, slurpee-loving ladies.

It wasn’t until this past summer, when I decided to stay in Mount Pleasant and take classes, that I landed the holiest of all jobs — serving at Ponderosa.

I worked at Pondo through the summer and into the first few weeks of the school year. For the first time in my college career, I had income. I barely knew what to do with it. OK. I spent it at the bar.

But upon entering work recently, I heard something unexpected and took another setback.

“Ryan, I’m going to keep this short and sweet. We’re not going to put you on the schedule anymore,” my boss told me as he explained that I was “slacking” the previous night and management felt it was in their “best interests” to let me go.

Of course, I pleaded my case pointing out that I came in one hour early and busted my ass on both sides of the restaurant that night, so his arguments were bogus. If anything, I was picking up everyone else’s slack, I told him.

But my boss held his ground, and I’m back to square one — jobless in Mount Pleasant, but with a new bitter hatred for steakhouses.

I don’t even know if it’s worth my efforts now to look for another job. I think I’d rather fall off the jetway at LaGuardia Airport than suffer the emotional distress of another rejected application to flip burgers at McDonald’s.

Again, this both sucks and blows.

I got no food. Got no job. Oh, crap. My goldfish’s head just fell off.

I feel ya Lloyd.

Ryan Stanton is a Central Michigan Life staff writer. Send amazing dream job offers to DMB060301@hotmail.com.