To laugh or to cry

In my 22 years of living, of lazy summers and pent-up winters and procrastinating springs, never have I felt as useless as I do at the moment as an unemployed college graduate. Yes, we're in a recession, yes more qualified professionals are also recently unemployed, but the thought of others sharing my misery brings little comfort. It only darkens the shade of gloom that so ominously hangs above each of our heads, I'm sure.

Over the last few weeks of telling people that I'm on a job search and trying to keep them updated, there has definitely been a drop in my dignity. I was able to snag an interview with Lakeshore, where my cousin works, and I thought the interview was only okay. They put me in for consideration as a Research Assistant, but that was a no go, of which I was notified via snail mail. I was prepared after a couple of days of no response. I was hopeful even though I had the experience of being hired right away because a company wanted me that much, so I know when the prospect does not look good.

As I told Alan, a rejection is a rejection, but it's at least a reply. It's strange how you are grateful that a company responded at all, even if it is just to say that you did not get the job. You feel like a recognized human being rather than just another lemming trying to get into that wee spot and just falling down into the abyss.

I'm not terribly worried about whether I'll find a job, honestly. I know things will work out for me sooner or later. What makes me itch nowadays is boredom and the feeling that I am contributing absolutely nothing to society. I am a nomad in my own house with family coming here and there and all over, so that I cannot even stay in the same room for very long. It's very unsettling and has made me so lazy and unkempt beyond caring. I'll go do my exercise, but at home, it's on the ground doing a 1000-piece puzzle that's missing a piece or sitting in front of the computer. Cleaning the house and watching my diet (as a pescetarian, it's important) are not the priorities they used to be.

For a while I was motivated. I read and read and read. Books, magazines, newspapers, I consumed all that before and enjoyed the free time tremendously. But as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months (excuse the cliche), life became a bit...dull. You can only read so much without having to discuss your own opinions with someone, who would preferably not have to speak with you through a computer screen. You can also only job search so much until your searches begin yielding positions to which you've already applied.

I'm pretty done with wallowing, though. As you get older, chocolate only does so much to make you feel better; it actually makes your teeth hurt. And it probably makes you fat, though I still refuse to believe that to this day. So I've been determined to make myself useful in even the smallest way.

If you can rise to the challenge, though, that's the good thing about being unemployed. It really teaches you to be more inventive and contribute in a less conventional way. It also teaches self-motivation and discipline. I am on no one else's deadlines, but if I am to succeed I must be strict with myself and my time. There's something uniquely satisfying in creating your own project and wanting to see it through to the end. Shamefully, I don't think I've ever done that in college or in high school.

So that's me in a nutshell. I'm unemployed with determination and a very low sense of dignity. I laugh at the ridiculous sight of me sitting on the floor sweating over a jigsaw puzzle or getting passionately angry at another player for beating me in tetris; I cry at the thought of being so agonizingly useless in my pajamas every day. I laugh that I'm grateful for a rejection letter; I cry that I have to keep searching. I laugh at the situation and how ridiculous it is; I cry at the situation and how degrading it is.

Either way, it helps me cope through these times.

Well, if you give me a good book I can dive into I might just forget all these silly troubles.