It’s a pill, not a metaphor (but, really, it is)

 

 

It is the last pill of the last bottle of the last prescription I filled when I still had health insurance. I had four prescriptions going when I was first laid off and slowly they all ran out, but I managed to stretch this last one out until now. So my thyroid, cholesterol, mental health and birth control issues are now in the hands of the employment gods. *Snort of derision* – good luck with that, health issues, for those employment gods are stingy bastards.

Now What?

Today marks the first day since I was laid off that I am not “earning” any money – yep, my unemployment has run out. The good news is that I no longer have to be concerned about being audited by the State - they could at any time request evidence that you are actively looking for work and you have to apply for a certain number of jobs per week - so I no longer have to apply for crap jobs just for the sake of getting my numbers up. The bad news is, well, I have no income coming in. But I am far from being homeless or going hungry, because I do have some cash reserves I can fall back on. I’ll close out my savings account and cash in my 401(k), and that should give me another three months. But once again, when (if?) I finally get another job I am back to square one as far as a retirement fund is concerned. It was always iffy anyway, my chances of being able to retire, but this bout of unemployment has made it official – I will be working up until the day I die.

 

“Welcome to Walmart. How can I help you today?”

Catching Flies and Squeaky Wheels

A Facebook friend suggested I change my profile picture because prospective employers sometimes check out Facebook, and apparently my current pic - evidence of Sammy's biting issues - is not suitable. So I had a session with a renowned photographer. I have narrowed it down to two. One with the most votes will become my new profile pic, although I have a feeling the second one will appeal to only those familiar with 1980s British television.

 

 

 

 

The “Nothing to Report” Report

Really, nothing much has happened since my last post. Well, I had a couple interviews; halfway through one I was told it was a part-time position so that was a big fucking waste of time (I wore pantyhose too). The second was more promising but it did not work out (ironic thing about that one was that the start date would have been September 15 – exactly eight months to the day since I was laid off).

Then the Robin Williams’ stuff did not help my mood at all – that desk-standing scene from Dead Poets’ Society reduces me to tears at the best of times but taking into consideration my current state of mind and add my sadness over the death of such a good and talented man, watching that scene every five minutes on TV reduced me to even more of a blubbering mess than I already was.

Then I discovered someone whom I thought was a friend would rather make money than spend time with me (and this was additional money, not their regular wages - I would never ask anyone to choose their job over spending time with me). This one was especially hurtful because just a few days later a Facebook post revealed that this person does not always put money above friendship. I guess it depends on the friends. So I will never again put them in a position where they have to choose money over friendship – because now I know where I stand on their friendship scale, I can obliterate them from mine.

All I can say is thank the Universe for Sammy and alcohol.

Daysdaysdaysdaysdaysdaysdaysdaysdaysdaysdaysdaysdaysdaysdaysdaysdaysdaysdaysdaysda

The days are melding into one another. Sometimes I only realize it is the weekend when I go to watch The Price Is Right and instead there is a gardening program on. I go days without any (non-electronic) human interaction and on those days sometimes I do not even brush my teeth or change out of whatever I wore to bed the night before. And when I do have contact with someone it is usually just the clerk at the liquor store or the library or whoever is manning the drive-thru window that day on my twice-a-week outings, one to the library (although the books are returned mainly unread and the DVDs unwatched because I feel guilty for doing something even remotely pleasurable when I am out of work) and one for groceries (booze). I could combine these trips into one but just one outing a week would put me over the edge, I think.

My stay-at-home days follow a very similar pattern: when I have done all the job-applying for the day I try to eat something (but I have very little appetite these days). Then it is The Price is Right (today was especially good – I came within $200 of winning a car and Bob Baker was on it because it is his 90th birthday, which is funny because the last time I was out of work it was his 80th birthday. He was still hosting the show then and Adam Sandler was a special guest. What a coincidence that I am out of work when Bob Baker has a milestone birthday). Then it is another round of e-mail checking, just in case. Then I assume the fetal position on the bed or the couch (whichever is nearest to Sammy) for a few hours where I am either dozing or sobbing. Then at some point I realize it is after 5 pm so I start drinking. (Of course, the ironic thing is, back in the day when I had a job and I would take a day off, apart from the job-hunting and the sobbing, that was how I would spend my day anyway!)

Six Months Later…

Yep, it is six months to the day since I lost my job.

I had planned to write a pretty long post about these six months but I am just so depressed and lethargic, this is all you’re going to get. It is one of many posts I have started but been too low to finish. Plus now that I have gotten rid of all my English family members from Facebook I am posting a little more on there, like a message about Sammy’s birthday, for example. (Although sometimes I double up and post on both - the dollar store wine story is a case in point.) I’ve just nothing positive to say about the entire six months and I really am trying to avoid being a Debbie Downer in this blog. Suffice it to say, I am looking for work but I am not getting any call backs. It is soul-crushing. See, I understand when I do not get an offer after an in-person interview, because, yeah, they get to see the ass, the chins, the waistline, but I can’t even get the chance to introduce them to the fat ugly blob that I am. Thank the Universe for alcohol and Sammy.

I have died and gone to purgatory

OMG – my local 99 cents only store has started selling wine. Let me repeat that: my local 99 cents only store has started selling wine. I know. It’s not 99 cents, unfortunately, ($2.99) which is why this post says purgatory instead of heaven and I have not tasted it yet, but still: my local 99 cents only store has started selling wine.

A Sammy Tail

Sammy’s interest in looking outside when the blinds are open:

0%

 

Sammy’s interest in looking outside when the blinds are closed:

100%

 

Feast of the Virgin, Year II

Two years ago today…

... I kissed the prettiest boy alive (you know who you are. Or do you, actually? I am sure I have told you about this blog (I tell you everything) but I would be extremely surprised if you‘d ever read it. Too busy with your fabulous career and drop-dead gorgeous wife and those kids.).

Anyway, after we kissed we did some other stuff (tee-hee). Other stuff that I have not done with anyone since. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have kept my born-again virginity intact (tee-hee) for another year! Yay! Two years of no sex!

Well, kind of, but not exactly. I mean, yeah, there was that guy I was kind-of seeing and one time we did some stuff (or rather, I should say, he did some stuff and I just laid there and enjoyed it). But, technically, it was not the horizontal mamba and were I a real virgin before, I would still have been afterwards (technically) so it does not count.

But, for obvious reasons (I am still without a job) there will be no Feast of the Virgin this year. The Moet & Chandon will remain in the back of the fridge. But the occasion will not go completely uncelebrated: I have a bottle of a favorite wine that I was saving for when I got a new job. But it is much cheaper than the Moet so I will treat myself to that. And I got a bag of generic Funyuns at the dollar store yesterday and there may even be an ice pole or two in the back of the freezer, so I am all set!