How to Survive a Being Unintentionally Unemployed: A Day’s Diary
The alarm goes off at 6am every weekday. Even if it was a late night, even if I had three glasses of wine while watching The Bachelor from my cousin’s siphoned Hulu account, the alarm goes off and I get up. I know myself, and I know I must maintain some semblance of a schedule or I’ll hide in a dark, dark corner. I get up, put on my worn exercise clothes, and drive to the gym. The front desk woman has no idea she is a pawn in my morning ritual. If rule #1 is create a schedule, rule #2 is manufacture accountability. Whether she knows it or not.
At home, I eat a power breakfast of peanut butter and banana toast or eggs over greens — rule #3, try not to hate yourself first thing in the morning. Forgoing breakfast or reaching for a handful of Cinnamon Toast Crunch offers temporary relief to your churning gut, but the consequences will leave you full of carby sugar sadness and apathy for life. Eating something healthier at least hints at possible success. One meal of okay-e-ness, that’s all I’m asking.
I’m not a nerd that dresses in a business suit to “set the tone” (but good on ya if that works), but I do try to not look like a victim of The Plague. This means real pants and brushed hair (rule #4 — respect yourself). I write out my realistic goals for the day, including the small and mundane, just so I have more to cross off.
Depending on the day, urgency, and energy levels, I divide my time between three categories; job hunt, side hustles, writing. The urgency of the day may be job hunt 95%, side hustle 3%, writing 2%, but everything needs to be at least touched. (This prevents me from abandoning the job hunt in despair — the most draining and painful of all activities). Rule #5 — stay organized, borrowing from rule #2 — accountability.
Today, I rent my car to someone using a car-sharing app. She picks it up at 8am, and in 15 minutes I’m back to seize the day with the satisfaction that I will soon be able to afford two cans of tuna. I most enjoy writing in the morning, and as the job hunt today is applications and cover letters (BLAH), I indulge. I set a timer for 45 minutes. If it’s going well, I’ll allow myself to work past the timer. If I find myself trolling around on Buzzfeed like some 19-year-old indignant, this is my slap on the wrist. One more Youtube video about how to trim your own bangs and then it’s back to the mines.
I’m meeting up with old co-workers for lunch, so I punt job search until the afternoon. I could metro or drive, but both involve $$$, so instead, I take a strolling hour-long walk. One could argue that hour is better spent updating my resume or joining some virtual networking chatroom, but one could also argue Harry Potter killed JFK, so we all make our own decisions here.
I meet them at my old stomping grounds (multiple jobs ago, amicable departure, but it’s still weird seeing familiar faces and awkwardly palling around without revealing anything of substance). My friends have ordered $15 salads; I wait seven minutes in the microwave line to heat up my poor person soup. I leave with the appropriate mix of bubbles and melancholy. Rule #6- maintain relationships, even if it’s hard and hurts and seems like a real grind. But only with people that matter and will lift you up. It’s completely acceptable to sideline someone who doesn’t get it, and check in after this wave passes.
Back home, I bribe myself with chocolate as I face the worst part of the day. Searching for jobs is Dante’s 7th circle of Hell. Every morning, I wake up to 25–65 voluntary emails from the various job search databases/platforms/engines. 95% of them are crap, but digging through the mud is the only way to find the one or two potential leads.
For a full 30 minutes, I lay on the couch and read through the queue. Anything worth exploring I send to myself in a separate email to read after I clear up the clutter. I open up links to anything promising, read the job descriptions and explore the websites, and then add the winners to a physical paper-and-pen list. Rule #2 and #5 — accountability and organization. A huge pitfall is not reading the application thoroughly — there have been many a time I spent an hour writing a thoughtful, noble-peace-prize-winning cover letter just to learn it was not even an option.
I’m not going to write a manifesto on how to apply for jobs because it sucks, but here are my key takeaways: 1. You will always be underqualified so just apply 2. Professional resume writing companies prey on your fear and insecurity. You can certainly give it a try, but just know their incentive. 3. You don’t know what’s going on behind the scenes. They could have an internal candidate all lined up and post the job for show. The hiring manager’s ex-boyfriend could have gone to your college so they subconsciously put your resume in the shredder. You caught the post on the last day of interviews. HR is racist and bigoted. Whatever you need to tell yourself, remember this; it sucks, it sucks, it sucks. But you will get through this.
Three hours of staring at the blinking cursor of my screen, I go for a 15-minute walk and play around on the internet. Rule #7 — get sunshine, take breaks. I try and bask in the coincidental perks of being unintentionally unemployed, such as — I own my time. I can snack throughout the day from my fully stocked fridge. I can talk walks with all the nanny-shares and retirees. Sometimes these things backfire and just make me sad, but then I go home and read one chapter of a book or watch an episode of The Office, which you can certainly can not do in The Office.
If I’m really struggling to focus, I give myself two options. If I’ve been pretty good, consistently following a schedule, cranking out applications, and not eating ice cream at 10am, I just let myself be. I might take a long afternoon walk to a museum, or read half a novel, or roll the change from my penny jar. If I actually need to bunker down (upcoming interview, I totally did eat ice cream for two meals yesterday and shouldn’t be home to polish off the carton), I’ll go to the old fashion public library. The computers are free and fast, and I’m too embarrassed to do anything but work in public places where homeless people and school-skipping-children can watch me login to Facebook. It’s pretty depressing, but it gets the job done.
Rule #8 — get outside yourself. I volunteer as an after-school tutor not because I’m a good person, but because (take it back to the beginning), I know myself, and I need to have outside forces to keep me going. If my little tutee expects me every Wednesday at 5pm, I better show up Wednesday at 5pm. Unfortunately, my normally cherub child is having a rough day and we spend 45 minutes rolling around the floor as an alternative to homework. She asks why I’m not cool like the other tutors. She accuses me of child abuse. She stares at the paper with such rage, I wonder out loud if it will combust into flames. She finally giggles and, exhausted by the fight, settles into fractions.
On my walk home I call a friend. Revisiting rule #6 — good friends want to check in on you, but are willing to give you space. If you want to complain about this season, go ahead. If you want to babble about reality TV, just say so. The worst people are those who try to understand but say the wrong things. Which is why I avoid social events. For example, my apartment hosts free yoga on Wednesday nights. A $0, stress-relieving, old-lady-marketed yoga class is just what the psychologist ordered. Except for those busybody chit-chatters that immediately introduce themselves as you are setting up your mat, ask which unit you are from, and then of course, “WHAT DO YOU DO FOR A LIVING?”
Whether friend, stranger, or foe, this is what not to say to your unintentionally unemployed friend:
- Good for you, that must have taken so much courage to quit. I could never do it. Responsibilities and all.
- It must be so nice to get a break!
- What do you do all day?
- Since you are now, like, a stay-at-home person, can you bake 200 brownies for the event? Unless you are too …busy?
- That’s great that you have the cash reserves to take such a risk.
- My brother’s friend’s first cousin’s ex-boyfriend knows someone who works next-door to a place that I heard has employees that do job stuff. Do you want me to set you guys up for coffee?
- OH MY GOD WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO??
I strategically arrive to yoga two minutes late and leave 30 seconds before scheduled nap-time concludes, thus avoiding Susan, Mary Beth, and their therapy dog, Hank, who is really just a rat with papers. Car-share lady returns my vehicle unharmed, and I fantasize about my evening’s rewards for not sucking today (hot chocolate and a bath).
Rule #9 — Be Kind, to yourself and others. It is so tough, SO tough, to be in this mess. You question every decision, analyze every relationship, contemplate reaching out to your boss from 2008 to ask if they need a part-time janitor. But you will get through this and one day it’ll all be a hazy wine dream. I have never met someone who is legitimately chronically unemployed. Sometimes it takes longer (six months, a year!), but everyone who tries, and asks and accepts help from others, manages to land on their feet, butter-side-up. You’ll feel constantly drained, tired, irritable. You may snap at your mom or your best friend, and you’ll definitely have some dark conversations with your own reflection.
It’s ok to eat ice cream and take a break. Tomorrow, you’ll start again. And soon you’ll be intentionally employed.
