Unemployment

I filed for unemployment for the first time about a month ago. It’s hard for me to say that out loud because of how desperately I do not want to be unemployed. The reason I am not employed is no-fault. I’m not here to rag on myself or on my former employer. I’m just saying that there’s nothing that really makes you feel poorer than the unemployment web site. The good news is that it’s stupid simple to navigate and takes about three minutes a week.

I use the money for two specific purposes; the obvious one being that Dana and I need the money for bills, food, etc. The not-so-obvious is that it gives me a tiny little cushion to get my writing career off the ground. Do not write this off as a pipe dream. It will hurt me beyond belief.

I do not believe that this web site can support me, but what I do know is that I cannot be at an interview every moment of every day, so why not lay the groundwork while I’m at home? What could be a better example of trying to prove self-sufficiency than trying to make your talent work for you? It is so much easier to make a career on your own terms than having to work for someone else, and having a little part of that is better than nothing at all.

Dana and I had the most interesting conversation last night. The rundown is that basically she didn’t think I knew how to work for someone else, and not because I don’t have that skill set. It’s just that trying to fit MY brain into other people’s boxes doesn’t work very well, because the moment they try to define me, I’m a new iteration.

She basically told me to stop working for other people and lead them, because that’s where my talent lies. My talent is not in carrying out other people’s visions, it’s implementing my own. It was a way of saying, not so subtly, “stop hiding your light.” My wife gives me the courage to be myself, because if it weren’t for her, I would still be trying to fit whatever clothes society wants to put on me, and they are ill-fitting.

At the same time, though, I can’t live my whole life in the clouds (or as an IT person, in the cloud, I suppose). I have to put shoe leather into something. Whether it’s cooking, cleaning houses, bartending, whatever, I have to have something that feeds my talent. Writers that live in glass towers see experiences and rarely have them.

Those two ideas are constantly struggling within me, and in a way, it feels perfectly balanced. I have the opportunity to get my needs met in the short-term, and the ability to get my wants met later.

But while I’m working all of this out, would you mind going to Safeway and picking me up some COLA and a box of Hydrox?

You’re a peach.