So I don’t know if it’s the Sunday blues, or what, but suddenly, the blissed-out high I was experiencing during my wide open days of unemployment have come to a screeching halt.
And the spaz attack begins.
I cherish the opportunity to have time off from working to explore what I want to do, and feel that I’ve taken advantage of the time. I sleep late and exercise a lot. I visit museums and explore New York like a tourist and it’s just grand.
But my unemployment checks will run out eventually (and that eventually is sooner rather than later, to be quite honest) and in the first place, taking unearned money freely from the government seems a little weird.
I’m slowly realizing, too, that it’s not like we can just rest on our laurels and stick it out for a few months, waiting for the economy to brighten up again. No, these jobs that are melting away aren’t necessarily coming back, and the lazy self inside is kicking and screaming over having to re-evaulate everything I thought I was destined to become and figure out how to do something else entirely.
In the beginning, I reassured myself with hard work. As long as I kept busy and maintained a work ethic despite not actually earning money for it, I would put myself on the path to being employed once again. Now, I find myself with nothing to do. Job hunting online is totally pointless because if there’s one job for 10,000 candidates, it’s pretty much guaranteed the winner will be a personal connection or at least someone withing three degrees of their network. OK, so I can freelance if I just put my mind to it? Well, I’ve put out my feelers and am ready for an influx of positive responses!
What if I find some decent job and look back on my free months as this glorious window of opportunity I virtually ignored? What if, while I was lingering around Trader Joe’s and doing an inordinate amount of yoga in Brooklyn, I could have been slumming out a bohemian exploration in Paris, beach bumming it in Thailand for peanuts, or volunteering in Africa? Am I missing out on the chance to start my own business? What business would that even be?
Should I get an internship at a florist? Go to grad school? Keep taking personal enrichment arts classes? Bartend?
The blog is good. The blog keeps me sane.
I don’t know. All I know is that I’m in the stage of grief called Future Panic. I think the best solution for the time being is to gather a group of like-minded freakshows and start some kind of volunteering/networking/creative brainstorming book club. Or at least find someone who wants to go to matinée movies all the time.
Are you worried about what’s going to happen tomorrow, this summer, this year?