March 2009 Archives

I keep almost writing things to post here and then stopping myself.  Being unemployed has started making me very grumpy.  Actually, it’s not the Not Having a Day Job that is annoying me, it’s the Not Being Able to Get One.  I keep getting rejection letters, and every time I thank someone for their time in an e-mail I become more and more tempted to say “WHAT THE F?  WHY DIDN’T YOU HIRE ME?!”  Nevertheless, I continue to apply for jobs with a fervor and steadfastness bordering on desperation.

I have considered many alternative careers in the past few weeks.  As I am eating my yogurt late at night after a hard day of not working (or working, as it has been in the past couple of days), the commercials on TV for careers in medical billing, nursing, or technical schools look better and better.  Heating, air conditioning, and refrigeration?  I could do that.  I also like helping people.  Maybe I could become a dental assistant.  Look at this Hispanic gentleman who is telling me about how ITT Tech helped him achieve his dreams as he goes on a midday picnic with his wife and two children—I could be that Hispanic gentleman.

Other things I have considered: becoming a spy, becoming an espionage agent, and becoming a foreign operative.  I don’t have enough work experience to apply at the FBI, though.  I looked. 

I make ill-formed and perhaps even iller-executed decisions about my life on an almost daily basis.  For instance:  on Saturday, I decided to start running again.  But rather than do what a normal person does when a normal person starts running again (which is to start off with slow, easy distances and work up to the longer, tougher distances), I went a little overboard and in the past five days have run over twenty miles.  Obviously I hurt my foot and now have to take a short break from running.  But it’s going to get cold again soon anyway, and who wants to run when it’s cold?

I went to Walgreen’s last night with Kylene to get some insoles for my shoes to help my foot get better faster, and when I was there I realized that it’s Easter candy season again (most people call this Lent).  I was overwhelmed by the amount of Peeps and Bunnies in their dazzling array of colors, by the Cadbury crème eggs, and by the sweet luscious promise of peanut butter beneath the chocolaty shell of the Reese’s eggs.  I bought a thing of Pink bunnies and three Cadbury eggs—I didn’t want to go overboard, after all.  It must have been an interesting thing for the cashier to see: Dr. Scholl’s insoles, a moderately absurd amount of candy, and two different kinds of toothpaste (including the kind for sensitive teeth, which I bought specifically for this time of year.  Because as I told Amy, “Those little guys are going to have a rough couple of weeks.”)

Of course, last night’s running, which was supposed to make up for the extra calories I took in via candy themed after pagan symbols of fertility, was not as successful as I might have hoped.  I probably ran two thirds of what I had the night before, but had to walk the rest of it because of the injury I am nursing.

But I don’t think I am going to give up running.  There are two things wrong with my life right now:  I am overweight, and I am underemployed.  Of these two problems, there is only one I can fix without writing a cover letter, and right now running six miles is much easier than writing about how I think I would make a great asset to your organization.  Running I can control.  Rejection I can’t.  So I’m going to run—at least for a while.

BUT you should know that I wrote this entire entry specifically so that I could say:  “Unemployment is such a pain in the foot!”  (rimshot plz)

I have learned several things today.

1. I carry tension in my neck that adversely affects my singing.  All I need to do is make sure and schedule all of my future auditions at the exact same time as a massage, and I will be golden.
2. You should never, ever, ever use the bathroom at the unemployment office on Delmar.  The stench is…indescribable.  And I don’t want to know what those goopy mounds of dirt were on the floor and how they got tracked all over the bathroom.  As Diane put it, “At least you know there is always going to be a job cleaning that bathroom!”  Well-played, Diane.  Well-played.
3. Yes, I can eat a whole thing of Edy’s in under 24 hours.
4. I will not necessarily go running just because I am wearing running shoes.  I won’t.
5. I am apparently living a boring shell-like half-life of a life.  This is probably because I don’t like to do things like “go to bars” and “have a good time” and “get schnockered.”  But really, if I went out, I would miss things like my cat falling asleep on my unemployment paperwork.  And SNORING!  If THAT isn't fodder for a LOLcat, what is?
6. It’s okay, though, because realistically, who can afford to go out when they’re on unemployment and there is cat food to buy?

1. Am I eligible for food stamps?
2. Can I claim my cats as dependents?
3. Do food stamps cover cat food?
4. What about pizza rolls?  Can cats eat those?

I guess quantitatively my life is pretty terrible right now, even though qualitatively it is somewhat better.  Especially today.

I actually had a good day today—it involved cleaning.  While most people think cleaning is annoying, I am one of the few who are happier while cleaning.  Yes, I am one of those gay-ass punks who whistles while he works.  Except I sing.  Usually operacizing pop songs: today it was Madonna’s “Material Girl.”  And that makes me 80% gayer.

It was more than just the cleaning, though: I had an all-around positive day.  I woke up early, had some coffee, got some leads on a few more jobs, I had a good rehearsal, I didn’t take a nap but I almost did, and I had some frozen yogurt.  It was a day that a jobful person might look at and say, “Wow, I wish I were unemployed because that sounds at least ten times better than having a job.”  And that person would be absolutely correct.  Yes, that’s right.  It was ten times better than working where I used to work.  

But then, working there was 80% as bad as say, self-immolation.  Or maybe only 67% as bad as being mauled to death by your neighbor’s erstwhile friendly Chihuahua.  So you do the math.  I say all that to say that my quality of life, though drastically improved, is still pretty low.  To continue with my trend of irrelevant analogies that are strung together haphazardly, it's like being a Serb and moving from 1994 Sarajevo to 1998 Kosovo.  It's a little better, yes, but um, I would still plan on getting out of there at a fast walk if I were you.

And yes, that’s right.  I am bad-ass enough to use “erstwhile” and “Chihuahua” in the same sentence.  And I am also awesome enough to segue (poorly) into late 20th-century Balkan conflicts.

I NEED TO GO BACK TO ANALOGY SCHOOL.

So I guess what I am trying to say is, I should wake up early and have coffee every morning.  But if I do this tomorrow, I am taking a nap, because even if I am happy, I get cranky without a nap.  150% Grumpier.  The end.

I have been thinking a lot about Helen Keller recently.  I don’t know why, but she has come up in conversation like three times in one week.  It’s a sign, or something.  When you think about it, she really is a pretty remarkable lady.  She was horribly disabled and didn’t possess any linguistic skills at all until the age of 7, and yet she went on to be a celebrated author and lecturer.  I mean, she was by all means doomed to a reclusive life, and then Annie Sullivan comes along and transforms her into one of the most celebrated figures in American History.  Annie Sullivan spent like all her time with this chick, teaching her and guiding her and encouraging her.  Their relationship is really remarkable.

Which makes me wonder:  WHERE THE FUCK IS MY ANNIE SULLIVAN?!?!  Why doesn’t some poor sap decide to devote his or her life to encouraging and teaching me and keeping me from doing stupid things like eating a whole box of Oreos after a bad audition?!  Why doesn’t this person make me go for runs instead of taking naps?  This person would need to be part personal trainer, part therapist, part life coach, and part chef.  Maybe I’ll put an ad on craigslist or something.  Wanted: one talented but desperate personal trainer/therapist/life coach/chef; must be willing to work all hours for no pay—the joy on my face when I become successful must be payment enough.

Any takers?

Anyway.  My audition was PROBABLY fine, but I feel less than positive about the whole experience.  I mean, I know that the people listening to me know me and know my voice and my work ethic pretty well, but there’s something horribly disappointing about singing for 75 seconds and then hearing, “I don’t think we need to hear anything else.  Thank you.”  They were very nice about it, though.

So I’m not carrying a lot of hope for having work this summer, that’s all.

Aside from that, this is what I accomplished this weekend: I played through all of Final Fantasy I on my Nintendo DS, I watched National Treasure (starring Nicholas Cage) not once but TWICE, I saw Slumdog Millionaire again (which was good for my soul but not fantastic for my already unrealistic expectations for my fiscal future), and I took two three-hour vengeance naps.

I need to get a hobby.  Maybe if I learned Russian or something.