THE UNEMPLOYED TALES: PART 1

It’s kind of like The Canterbury Tales. Expect, not really at all.

I’m trying not to count the days or months or anything. Because I have a severe time-pressure issue (is that what it’s called? I think other people just call it anxiety, but nonetheless I’m working on it.) that makes me feel like I need to accomplish everything on Earth before I turn 30 years old because for some reason at that time I will shrivel up and wither away to nothing, but anyway. Other people feel like this too, right?! Please don’t tell me I’m crazy. I go therapy, I promise.

That being said, I moved back home (what’s up NY?) almost 9 months ago. Brb, I have to go THROW UP. Just kidding. Kind of. It’s not that bad, really. I’m very grateful to have parents that took me back at the age of 23 after galavanting through 3 different states/countries the year prior. Like, I wasn’t really galavanting. I honestly don’t really know what that word means. But I was getting a degree, and I had a job after that. But I had to come home. I say “had to” to rationalize it to myself. Regardless, I came home. I called it my retirement for a little while. Like the whole month of October I kept saying, “I should teach people how to retire at 22!”. I am a joke. I started looking for jobs, though.

Oh, I forgot this part actually. I decided that if I didn’t have a job by November that I would go back to Europe for a month or so to recalibrate and visit some friends. So I did that. And I came back right before Christmas. And then it was the holidays. And thennnnnnn, I started looking for jobs.

And nothing really bit. In the job market’s defense, I am very picky. I know what field I want to be in, and I am really taking advantage of living at home right now, so I’m taking my time to find exactly what I want (education, but not teaching). I do feel really blessed that I know what I want my career to look like and I don’t want to be another girl in her early twenties that dreads going to her 9 to 5. Not that I think I’m too good for that. It’s actually the opposite – like I physically will not be able to keep myself happy in any area if I’m not super in love with 40 hours of my week. It’s a character flaw, for sure.

And then the whole pandemic issue hit. What a bummer. For many reasons, obviously. But selfishly, because it has made it very difficult to keep looking for jobs. So now it’s halfway through the year, and I’m home and jobless and writing to control my emotions. And it’s fine. Really, it is. I just didn’t think it would look like this. So this is my way to cope through the break up of what I thought my life would look like at this point & post it on the internet so this season feels like it’s worth something? Is that how it works these days? Anyway, I give you – The Unemployed Tales.

When 2020 started I declared my word of the year as “Freedom”. And I kind of meant it as like… I would have money and could live where I wanted to live and do what I wanted to do. Bro. I had no idea. That the freedom. Was going to be Time Freedom. Talk about an antidote for my time-pressure issue. I have had l i t e r a l l y no choice but to let go of whatever timeline I thought I would have of getting a job, moving out, etc. and just surrender. Definitely a full life lesson about many other things we can’t control. It’s been humbling, that’s for sure. But the cool thing is, I totally gained about 70 years of life now that I don’t think I need to accomplish everything in the next 7 years. So. What’s the rush?

More Unemployed Tales to come next Thursday.

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