So I've been unemployed for about a week now. The novelty of staying home has worn off and I am beginning to climb the walls. I have watched enough Law and Order SVU to actually solve a murder, try the perp and sentence him/her to the appropriate amount of time for the crime.
Thank God I haven't started in with soap operas and game shows.
Lately I've been working on my crafts (while watching Law and Order) and making wonderful things with wire, beads and hair clips. It takes hours to come up with a few things since I have the equivalency of writer's block.
sigh
I've signed up on job service websites. I cruise those to see what's out there. I giggle as I refrain from applying for a detective or something legal like a lawyer. I can't put Law and Order on my resume.
I also have been thinking about working for myself.
What could I do that would pay the bills and that I would enjoy?
I think of all those designers out there that design shoes, handbags, jewelry, hats, and other things. I design barrettes and bangles for cell phones. How do other designers get noticed? How do they design and then mass produce it? hrrmmmmmm....
So many questions....
I have a friend who is a travel writer. She travels and writes. I would love to do something like that but I don't think I am that great of a writer nor can I just pick up and leave with kids. I just live through her writings and pretend that I went with her.
So much goes through my mind as Eliot and Olivia (reruns) solve crimes.
How will I pay the bills? How will we eat?
I need to figure something out.
How do others find jobs that they enjoy? I haven't enjoyed a job since I worked at Walmart. (I know, right?) I loved working with people. I loved supervising cashiers. I loved little old ladies who couldn't find the right TV. I loved the fast paced holiday season. It didn't pay well, but I loved it.
My second favorite job of all time was working as a hostess in a local restaurant when I was a teenager. I think I made $4.50 an hour but I loved it. I loved the customers. I loved my co-workers (Hell, I even married one of them). I loved the holiday seasons. I loved the smell of ribs cooking.
I guess the theme here is that I loved the two jobs that didn't pay the greatest but where I could work with people (customers).
So, maybe I have my answer just by writing all this out.
hrrmmmmmm......
Insomnia is setting in.
I expected it this time.
I have never hidden the fact that I suffer greatly from depression. This isn't new news. Sometimes I feel that it is old news and I whisper to myself, "People are really sick of hearing about your shit, Julie".
Oh well, my blog...my shit. If you are sick of it, why are you reading? :-)
Anyway, back to my day.
I am somewhat embarrassed to say it (write it) out loud...and I keep stalling, can you tell?
So...
I guess I will just say it.
I got fired today.
So what does this have to do with depression?
Well, besides the risk of adding to it; it also is the cause of it.
I stopped giving a shit. I didn't catch it or heed the warning signs. I just stopped giving a shit and it showed.
I haven't been this bad in a very long time.
The last time I stopped giving a shit at work, I lost the job and it catapulted me into a brand new life in a new state with new adventures. That was 1998.
I didn't cry and carry on after I was let go. I accepted the fact, packed up my desk and proceeded to move on. I didn't even cry when I ran out of gas on the way home.
It is almost comical in a strange sort of way.
It is 1:30 in the morning and I am not tired. I am not sad. I am not melancholy. I am not sobbing "oh poor poor me". I am not even stressing about what to do next.
Nope
I am writing...well and also toggling back and forth between tabs because I found this...
I am going to be freaking famous someday
Some times things happen for a reason. Yeah yeah...I know everyone says this to make a bad situation seem not so bad but in all seriousness...
I stopped giving a shit for a reason.
I just wasn't happy. Happiness is important, sometimes more important than other things. Life is just too short.
The job was a job that I wasn't passionate about. It didn't tap into my creative side. In order to be happy, I need to have passion and creativity.
I know it did pay the bills but I did move to a reasonably priced apartment (that's another thing that happened for a reason). I can survive until I figure stuff out.
This is all a weird feeling because I thought that as a victim of depression, this would have sent me over the edge...spiraling out of control and dialing up the therapist the second I got into my car (lord knows I had time since I was waiting for eternity for someone to rescue me).
Nope, I have a sense of relief.
