I Am Jack’s Raging Bile Duct
This is just too fatalistic. It’s Thursday, my favorite day out of all the days of the week, and I don’t feel jovial. I did mention sometime ago that I have an unexplainable liking for Thursdays. If I had, for some reason, explained it for the happiness weekend brings then I would’ve stopped loving Thursdays altogether. Because like Christmas, weekends are just too depressing even though it’s a welcome reprieve from the work day hell everyone seems to go through. But, like I said, Thursday sits too close to the weekend corner and I feel like the week’s just wearing on too fast. Hours seem to pass so quickly, days just go by in a blink. Before I know it, I’m picking up recyclable bottles and evading the immigration police, something which I am trying my best to not happen.
Okay, so I’m being melodramatic here. Can you blame me?
I haven’t received The Phone Call yet. I am going way over my head just stressing about whether my phone would ring and if the person at the end of the line has any good news for me. I did receive a different call yesterday in which an interview was scheduled for tomorrow at 2pm. I should be rejoicing, I know. But the notion that I have to go through the whole process again (making that good first impression, explaining why I’m the best candidate for the job, bullshit, bullshit, and even more bullshit) is wearing me too thin. I think I’m spreading myself too much on this job hunt and it’s getting the best of me.
The thing about unemployment is, the free time is amazingly vast. But like everything else, moderation is key. So unemployed people don’t know what to do with that much free time. The expanse of a day seems far too large for us to tackle and we’re left feeling useless and even inconvenient, especially to all our friends to whom we rant and share our woes to. Some go the proactive way in managing their time well, while some people tend to stick their heads in the oven. I’m at a tug-of-war between the two.
I really appreciate all the people who’ve come in to help. The upside of this is, I will get to know who my friends are. They tend to stick around, some folks say. We’ll see. Only time will tell, right?
P.S. I want to start my own Fight Club, bring to life my personal Tyler Durden, come home with a black eye and a swollen lip. Be my Marla Singer and let’s get this ball rolling, shall we?
