Dispatch 1

I want to keep up some semblance of control, but the reality is that I feel like I’m slipping into uselessness.

*Not hopelessness. I want to make that clear. I don’t feel hopeless, not like I did in 2022. No, I do honestly know that this will eventually pass, but until then, I feel like it’s getting more and more difficult to not become a bump on a log, slowly festering into decay.

I don’t want to get into what happened back then, in the before time, for that’s a story more suited for another post. This post is dedicated to me complaining about how fucking awful it is to be unemployed with no money.

More specifically, my weakening sense of usefulness. Yes, as it pertains to my job, sure, but that doesn’t invalidate my enjoyment of doing something I love doing, and getting paid for it.

And now I have no outlet for that, creativity, for that expression. Instead, I spend my time on reveries of what it was like to do my god damn job lol.

I spend my time searching for jobs and applying for jobs. Sometimes I get an invitation for a phone call, like I did on Monday. Had a good call, and things went well. The interviewer said that I would hear back this week either way. That was Monday. I am writing this Thursday evening. And that’s what I do – I apply, I wait. I have a phone call, I wait. I have an interview, I wait. And so I live in this perpetual world of complete uncertainty; will I have an interview for this application? Will I have a job next week?

I have no idea. And that shit, not knowing, drives me insane. Because I can’t plan for it. I’m in this horrible holding pattern. My only option is to ensure I take every chance I get to actively prolong it by searching for and applying to new job postings.

How so very, very lovely.

And while that’s happening, I have to contend with the fact that I’m not making an income. I have no regular ability to pay my bloody bills, or buy food. Speaking of which, and the catalyst for this current endeavor, one of those bills is now $450 because of some overdue charges. I have 5 others overdue like that. How the fuck am I going to pay for those? And groceries. They’re so expensive, and I have none. Well, that’s not true. I still have rice!

Yeah, I applied for EI, but $475 every two weeks is not a lot of help given everything above.

But here’s the worst part of all of this: having to live with the above absolutely destroys your energy to do anything, creative or not.

I’m down to going on the treadmill once a week for like 30 minutes. I hardly go outside my apartment or patio. Maybe that has to do with not having any money.

No, instead I sleep all day and stay up all night; I sit on my patio, drink coffee, watch YouTube, or listen to music until that account misses a payment.

Hell, there’s been times I’ve just sat on my patio all god damn day. Yeah. Just sat there, unemployed, desperately needing an outlet for what I love doing.

And to anyone who says people want to live like this: fuck y’all. No one wants to live like this. It’s not fun.

Well, I don’t feel like ranting anymore. Maybe I explored the issue to its full extent, or maybe this is a result of that energy drain I mentioned earlier and I’ve just exhausted my creative muscles because they’ve atrophied.

Something to ponder.