Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Grey days


Blah, felt like blahing to you, perhaps you can relate (or not). Work is sometimes hectic and sometimes humdrum. Why are you complaining, you ask from your own overwhelming piles of work. BECAUSE, this combination of humdrum and the impending end of my contract plus the fact that I have zero job offers on the other side and no income and at the moment I have no choice but to hang in the balance and wait and see makes me feel... blah.

There are moments I am a flurry of application emails, job searching, and wasta-insuring. Then there are moments where I feel like I should just float on my back with the millions of other people in the ocean of unemployment and see where the current takes me. Other times I feel so at a loss, after having turned to every corner or angle that I thought would take me somewhere only takes me back to where I started, and I don't know what I should be doing- acting or waiting. Maybe today I'll have an acceptance letter in my inbox instead of the usual "we regret to inform you"s. Maybe I'll bump into someone who needed a very good... proof reader. Maybe someone remembers me when a vacancy opens and is looking for my number on their phones but haven't found it yet. Maybe this job needs me more than I need it and will offer to make my time here "worth my while" while it waggles its eyebrows suggestively over paper cups at the office cooler.

This immobility is having the time of its life on my emotional state. There are days I am dazed, free-wheeling gleefully through the good and the bad, accepting that mine is just a rough patch that anyone else goes through. Other days even advocacy videos for investing in health workers (such as this one) can reduce me to tears and I have to excuse myself to go sob uncontrollably in the stairwell (the bathroom stalls woefully lack any privacy).

It's not like my life has any *real* problems, like a serious illness in the family or insurmountable debt like millions of Americans or that I'm fighting for the freedom of my country and people like the millions in the MENA region are doing in this instant.

And because I don't have real problems but I have little nagging ones that build into a daunting pile, my life feels inconsequential, like an indie movie replete with crappy music that has that brown-noise subtune and no beats where there should be and sustained piano notes when the camera zooms in on a corner of my head and there's no composition at all. Cut to scene of me busy with work, then cut to scene of me staring at a wall. Introduce random characters into the frame where they bug me and I'm nodding, voiceless, trapped in a colorless world with no resolvable ending in sight. Cue credits and audience disappointment.

Well, that's how I feel sometimes.

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