If unemployment has done anything for me, it's brought out some inner bipolar tendencies. It's been a week. A fast week. Got to get away for the weekend, a welcomed distraction, but otherwise I've been motoring from one state of mind to another. Having the world wide open to you is an exciting prospect. I can start over. I can find a job I'm passionate about; one I believe in and one that believes in me. I can sleep in, run mid-day, schedule coffee dates with the dozens of people within my network of People You Need To Know. There are so many options, if only the right one comes along. I've been able to do some cleaning at home, organizing both my closets and my life. Some fantastic job leads are already in the mix, and more opportunities are just around the corner. I have time to discover my own passions and put them to use. It's been a good week, given the circumstances.
And then I remember I lost my job. I lost my job, and now not only my well-being, but my self-worth and entire life hang in the balance because in a couple weeks I'll be living on unemployment and wondering whether I put gas in my car or buy more Ramen Noodles. First World problems, right? Welcome to reality. Poor little white girl. But this is scary. How do things flip so quickly? Who am I without a job? Just last weekend someone asked me what I do. What do I say? I do nothing because I lost the job I wasn't cut out for. It's embarrassing and it's stressful and just insert a whole bunch of extra "why me?" sentiments in this paragraph.
It fucking blows.
So while cake and jugs of wine and sleeping in and running at 2 p.m. and wearing sweatpants for entire days at a time is great, it only amounts to so much when at the end of the day, when I finally put my head on my pillow, I feel worthless.
I want to do it right this time. I want to find a job that suits me, that is a benefit to me, that wants me, that can take the time to utilize my potential. But I need to find it. I will, I'm certain of it. It'll take time. You don't lose your job then fall into a new one a week later. But the problem lies in this interim. When cake and wine are not enough.