i used to send screenshots of my calendar to my friends with a “LOLLZ SO BUSY I COULD DIE” comment or two. i filled my every hour with meetings and coffee dates and homework and errands. it was all scheduled out, like most working adults, because there just aren’t enough hours in the day, amiright? i loved the busy days — tuesdays were my favorite. they always started with an early coffee and ended with late night laughs from students who gathered on my couches and left their trash and drank hot tea. and between those bookends, i squeezed as much productivity in between as i possibly could. okay, sometimes i would take a nap in the afternoon, but it was always just to prepare myself for the late night laughter. i was busy a lot and i loved it. as in, if there was a day with a lot of blank space on my calendar, i would fill it up on purpose. i always had something to do or someone to be with. life makes sense for me when it’s busy. i feel like i have a purpose, like i’m needed, like i mean something.
the busy ended a lot sooner than i would have dreamed. in its wake it has left a lot of hopelessness, anxiety, and – if i’m honest – a deeper sadness than i have ever known. my days are less busy, my hours are less full. i drink less coffee because i get more sleep and that is not a good thing in my book. i check my phone every hour and remember what i normally did at this time, just three weeks ago. sometimes it makes me glad i don’t have to sit through another bullshit meeting. other times i could cry realizing i don’t get to sit on my couch with them anymore, at least not in the same way. i scroll through the pictures of the life i used to have and my emotions are a strange mix of jealousy and anger and quiet sadness. i bottle it up and store it on my bedside table and wait for the perfect moment to let the shit hit the fan because i’m super healthy like that. my therapist told me to keep a gratitude journal or go for a drive instead — but this is the closest thing i have to a journal right now because my whole life is packed up. so here i am, to let this shit out. not for you, not for anyone else, but really just for me. and my poor, sweet, innocent therapist. god she’s the best.
things that i have learned/have been confirmed since being unemployed:
1. i suck at being alone.
2. instagram is literally the worst. comparison, jealousy, ignorance, passive aggression, and hunger are the only things i see/feel when i scroll and i’m over it.
3. my need to feel busy is synonymous with my need to feel purposeful. i want my life to matter.
4. three hours with a toddler is still really hard for me.
5. my laptop in a coffee shop can only keep me company for so long before i go basically insane. i’ve told my life story to at least twelve strangers this week and i don’t even feel weird about it.
6. adventure fuels my fire. spontaneity is my drug of choice.
7. amy poehler is the best medicine always forever amen.
8. i should blog more.
9. cops don’t care that you just lost your job. the WILL still give you a ticket and they WILL be mean and you WILL see them in court because i don’t watch Scandal for nothing, Officer Neadles!!!!!!
10. i have the bestest friends + home team in the whole world. reminds me of this quote: “When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.” -Henri Nouwen
in conclusion: don’t ask anyone but me for details about what happened because it’s like effing TMZ out there; don’t ask me what’s next because i have no clue. except that i’m running away to a beach in Australia for two weeks and I COULD NOT BE MORE EXCITED SO BYE AMERICA; don’t take my sarcastic and pithy blog posts/texts/instagram captions as meaning anything other than i am doing the best with what i am working with and you just have to be okay with that or GTFO.
“set your life on fire; seek those who fan your flames.” -Rumi.
RUMI JUST GETS ME OKAY.