Friday, August 27, 2004
"I just had no intention of living this way"
Do you want the truth? The truth is that I'm tired. I'm so fucking sick and tired of all of this. I'm tired of pretending that getting laid off was the best thing that ever happened to me. Because you know what? It wasn't. It's been exactly three months, which is way past the time when I can read articles about Hilary Swank and pretend like everything's going to be OK. It's not even remotely close to OK. I hate having to pretend that I just love not having a job because I can get up whenever I want to, when the truth is that each morning I wake up when it's already light outside feels more and more like a failure. I hate having to spend hours at the library searching for jobs and then having to convince myself that I actually want to work at Office Supply Monthly in God-knows-where, New Jersey, just because it's the only job I've seen all week that I'm remotely qualified for. I hate the interminable silence of my apartment when I'm waiting for the phone to ring with news about a job. I hate getting excited when the phone finally, blessedly rings, only to find out that it's my bank or a wrong number. I hate that I can't fall asleep at night because of the afternoon nap I took because it's the only thing I could do to fill the hours of mind-numbing boredom. I hate that I can finish a novel or two a week. I hate meeting new people and being forced to bumble an answer to the question, "So what do you do?" I hate watching Seinfeld and identifying with George. George! I hate having to pay a ridiculous sum of money for health insurance that doesn't even cover the things I actually use my health insurance for. I hate hearing my friends plan trips and activities and wondering if I'll be able to go along with them or not. I hate the anxiety that creeps over me every time I balance my checkbook. I hate the automated voice man on the unemployment claim line that I have to call every week. I hate not being able to get my hair cut or buy new jeans because I've convinced myself that these are things I can live without. I hate hearing about friends and acquaintances and former co-workers who have transitioned so easily to the next step. I hate hoping and praying so fervently that I'll be offered jobs that I'm actually overqualified for. I hate that this isn't the first time I've had to feel this way, and I hate that the last time I felt like this was scarcely more than a year ago. But what I hate most of all is that I never did anything to deserve this.
Do you want the truth? The truth is that I'm tired. I'm so fucking sick and tired of all of this. I'm tired of pretending that getting laid off was the best thing that ever happened to me. Because you know what? It wasn't. It's been exactly three months, which is way past the time when I can read articles about Hilary Swank and pretend like everything's going to be OK. It's not even remotely close to OK. I hate having to pretend that I just love not having a job because I can get up whenever I want to, when the truth is that each morning I wake up when it's already light outside feels more and more like a failure. I hate having to spend hours at the library searching for jobs and then having to convince myself that I actually want to work at Office Supply Monthly in God-knows-where, New Jersey, just because it's the only job I've seen all week that I'm remotely qualified for. I hate the interminable silence of my apartment when I'm waiting for the phone to ring with news about a job. I hate getting excited when the phone finally, blessedly rings, only to find out that it's my bank or a wrong number. I hate that I can't fall asleep at night because of the afternoon nap I took because it's the only thing I could do to fill the hours of mind-numbing boredom. I hate that I can finish a novel or two a week. I hate meeting new people and being forced to bumble an answer to the question, "So what do you do?" I hate watching Seinfeld and identifying with George. George! I hate having to pay a ridiculous sum of money for health insurance that doesn't even cover the things I actually use my health insurance for. I hate hearing my friends plan trips and activities and wondering if I'll be able to go along with them or not. I hate the anxiety that creeps over me every time I balance my checkbook. I hate the automated voice man on the unemployment claim line that I have to call every week. I hate not being able to get my hair cut or buy new jeans because I've convinced myself that these are things I can live without. I hate hearing about friends and acquaintances and former co-workers who have transitioned so easily to the next step. I hate hoping and praying so fervently that I'll be offered jobs that I'm actually overqualified for. I hate that this isn't the first time I've had to feel this way, and I hate that the last time I felt like this was scarcely more than a year ago. But what I hate most of all is that I never did anything to deserve this.
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