I haven’t been unemployed for that long. It’s only been a little over two months. Not long compared to a lot of people out there right now. But let me say, I jumped right into the unemployed life with both feet back in September. That means I relished my days of sleeping in and watching daytime television and going to Target in the middle of the day. Hell, I’ve been there twice just this week.

And now, abruptly, that is all coming to an end. Well, not that abruptly. I have known about it for a week. So I’ve had plenty of time to get re-acclimated with being up during daylight hours and not staying up until 2 AM and being alert for hours on end. I have had time and I have NOT USED IT! Even today, around 2 PM, I got sleepy and debated taking a nap. Knowing full well that a nap would not be productive to me when I went to lay down my sweet head tonight. But I didn’t succumb. I fought through it by finally catching up on blogs.

Actually, I had grand plans for my last day as a sloth. I was going to get up at a reasonable time (I’m not insane people. It’s still my last day of freedom, I wasn’t going to forgo sleeping in) and then I was going to head downtown and do some shopping, maybe buy myself a new outfit for my first day.

Instead, my tooth had another idea. Because last night I started to get a dull ache in my tooth. The tooth I had the most recent root canal on. The tooth THAT HAS NO NERVE. Yes, the tooth with no nerve was aching. The day before I was set to go back to work. When I would no longer have oodles of time in the middle of the day. Oodles of time to say, SCHEDULE DENTIST APPOINTMENTS.

So I called my dentist. They said to call the root canal specialist I saw a few weeks ago. I pleaded with them and told them my situation. I think it went a bit like “I can’t be that girl that has to take time off within a week of starting her new job. WAH.” And they understood. Also, they asked me questions and figured out that my bite was probably uneven and because of that and because I grind my teeth at night (more so lately because of new job nerves) I was probably causing some pain to the bone.

They got me in right then. They fixed the bite (which, I won’t even point out was messed up when the LAST asshat dentist put the crown on) and then she filled it with more of a longer lasting temporary filling. So that I can wait until January 1, when I have dental insurance again, to get the crown filled. And on top of all this accommodating, IT WAS FREE.

Let me just say, I’m SO glad I sent the thank you note. I love this dentist! I wish they did more than root canals. (Case in point, when I came in, I was all “thank you so much for squeezing me in!” And the awesome dentist was all “of course! Thank you for not sitting around in pain.” Love. her.)

After that, I was too tired and too lazy to go shopping. So I came home and caught up on my DVR and just relaxed and enjoyed my last day off. It was a very nice relaxing day.

Now I should figure out what I’m wearing tomorrow and maybe actually get some sleep. So that I can actually be alert and awake for 9 hours tomorrow while I’m at WORK. At a JOB. Because I haven’t done that for quite some time.

Wish me luck!

But anyway, in a few days time, I will be returning to the ranks of the gainfully employed. I will be required to brush my teeth every day and take showers and actually have conversations with adults and not just my cats. It is a good time in my life. Any longer and I’m sure I would turn into some sort of hermit who hordes newspapers and take out menus.

In other words, I GOT A J-O-B!!! (That’s totally deserving of the multiple exclamation points!) NaIFinGoJoMo is a SUCCESS!

I obviously won’t go into any details on here, but I am really excited about the opportunity. I really think it will be a great fit.

In other news, my cats are not excited about this turn of events. They have actually enjoyed having me home. Weird, I know. I thought they’d miss throwing all those Kitty Kat Shindigs that I hear are all the rage in the neighborhood. But they will soon be excited about this change, since it means I can still afford to buy them food.

On the other hand, my pajama pants are overjoyed at this news. They are excited that they may stick around for a bit longer since there isn’t the threat that they will be soon turning into tattered rags from all the overuse they have been getting. Seeing as I haven’t worn a non-pajama pant in consecutive days for a few months.

So, yay! For the job and also because I’m rewarding myself with an iPhone as a “Yay! You got a job!” gift.

Look, I am unemployed and I have to get entertainment from anywhere I can. And this kind of entertainment is FREE! Do not judge me.

So, last week I got a call from some woman who found my resume online and figured I would be a good fit for some position. I came to find out it was a staffing company who had a temporary opening for an office manager role at a marketing design firm. They needed someone for two months while some woman went out on maternity leave.

After the phone call, me, myself and I had a real come-to-Jesus meeting about my job situation. Me reminded all of us that we’re still OK financially and that we have unemployment money coming in. Myself figured it might be worth it to go in and hear what this woman has to say, since it isn’t like anyone else is knocking down our door. I, on the other hand, have jumped into full-blown pessimistic mode and am convinced that I will never find a job and OMG, I will be living in a paper box down by the river and did you know it is almost WINTER? I will have to wear winter boots made from newspaper! I will have to shop at the HOBO store for sure! Hopefully they take containers of urine as a form of payment.

The three of us kind of came to some sort of middle ground, and I went on this interview today. My gut didn’t want to go either, but these days I can never tell if it is because in my gut I know it is a bad idea or if my gut really just doesn’t want to shower, put on make-up and leave the house. It’s weird, but those two feelings are similar in my gut.

In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have gone. My appointment was for 11 this morning. I was there early and started to fill out the paperwork. If you’ve never been to a staffing agency, the paperwork is a bitch. They ask for 17 references and make you fill out all the stuff that is on your resume on some sheet BY HAND. I do not write things out anymore. That is what keyboards are for! I knew, as I was filling this repetitive info out, that this place was never going to find anything for me and this cramp in my hand would never feel vindicated!

Around 11:20 or so, I Twittered that I had been waiting for 20 minutes. I was about ready to leave. It is one thing to wait, but no one came out to talk to me. NO ONE! Not a “sorry we’re running late” or a “So-and-So will be with you shortly.” NOTHING.

FINALLY, at 11:40 the recruiter lady came to get me. FORTY MINUTES LATE. Because I was already irritated that I even went (I even promised gut a Chipotle burrito for lunch for mistrusting his feeling that this would be a waste of time), I told the woman that I was irritated. I said “you realize it is 11:40 and I’ve been sitting out there for 40 minutes, right? And this interview was supposed to be at 11?” She was all “no it was 11:30″ (which is a load of hooey, I tell you, HOOEY). And then she said something, that maybe I was supposed to be impressed with, “well, I’m the owner and I have to do payroll.” THEN DON’T SCHEDULE INTERVIEWS AT THAT TIME! Payroll does not sneak up on you! It comes on a very regular schedule. THAT YOU ESTABLISH!

Because I was so irritated, I barely answered her questions and kept constantly glaring over at her computer screen, which I could see was on CNN. NOT ON PAYROLL! And since it was a small office, I had seen her around 11:20 or so chit-chatting with one of the other women in the office about Sarah Palin’s expensive wardrobe. SO RUDE!

It got even worse. I have a feeling she only brought me in because of my job at the 49ers. Which, I’m fine with. It has never gotten me in the door for an interview before (I know! Surprising!), so I’ll take it. But this woman was a huge Bears fan. And once placed someone over at the Chicago Blackhawks office, so therefore she knew EVERYTHING there was to know about how sports teams were run.

Let me tell you, nothing irritates me more than people who think they know what it is like to work in sports. Yes, it is cool. But guess what? That coolness wears off after awhile and then it is a job. And it has some awesome perks. And I loved my time with the 49ers and it was a great experience and I met a lot of great people. But working in sports has a lot of shitty aspects too. And there are a lot of politics in sports and sexism and all sorts of not fun things. So unless you’ve experienced it, don’t talk like you know what it is like. We are a fraternity. And you, recruiter lady, so are not a card-carrying member.

So I basically left the meeting feeling like I showered and put on a suit so I could take the train down to the Loop to get lunch and some Dunkin Donuts coffee. It wasn’t worth it. (OK, the coffee was totally worth it.) I’d be surprised if I heard anything from them, if they will have any positions open that I am a fit for. I’m crossing my fingers, but I’m not optimistic. Myself and Me, they are optimistic. Too bad I have supreme rule and I’m the pessimistic one.

But it started me thinking. And thinking led to panicking. I don’t have any offers on the table. And after next week, it is November. Which means that the holidays are right around the corner. And no one hires during the holidays. Which means I’ll more than likely be unemployed until 2009. And that is a scary fucking thought.

Which means in my head, I’m heading down the path that I am so hoping to avoid, which is taking a job I don’t want. Taking a job I will hate, just because I have to pay the bills, and then looking for a job again in the near future. To me, that’s scarier than being unemployed well into 2009. That thought makes me want to cry, buckets and buckets of wine tears.

I’m forcing myself to stay positive, though. There is something out there for me. And maybe I will, in a few months, have to take some temp jobs before I figure it all out. At least if I don’t like those jobs, I know it won’t be forever. Everything will work itself out and I will eventually, much to my nap-loving, sleeping-in-daily self’s dismay, have to go back to showering every day and dressing in real clothes, clothes whose names do not start with “sweat” nor “tee”. I know I will have to go back to having conversations with people and not just cats.

Until then, I have wine club wine to drink and tubs of ice cream to devour. And that is something Me, Myself and I can ALL agree upon.

Please get away from me. Please stop following me around. This apartment is not that big. You know this. You haven’t left it for the last three years. I’m not going to magically disappear when I go around the corner to the kitchen. And I will not melt into the sheets of my bed, never to be seen again. This is the last time I ask nicely for you to please get the fuck away from me you needy bastards.

Although, I do fear you might explode from sadness if and when I do get a job because what on Earth will you do all day without me around to annoy and follow and lick?

On second thought, this is all part of your evil plan to get me the house isn’t it? Well, it is almost working. You have underestimated my laziness and lack of motivation!

Just for that, I’m staying in all next week.

Sincerely,

Your Human Overlord

~~~~~~~

Dear Tooth,

Please stop hurting. I made an appointment for a root canal. But I can’t get in until Tuesday. There is nothing I can do about this. Just please suck it up and stop throbbing until then. And if you wouldn’t mind, could you please go back to being dulled by Advil. Because if I’m going to load my belly with Ibuprofen and give myself liver damage and eat away at my stomach lining, I would like for all those pills to actually TAKE AWAY THE PAIN.

I might have to bring in the bigger guns.

Throbbingly yours,

Kristabella

~~~~~~~

Dear Vicodin,

I love you. Tooth hates you. It’s a lovely world we live in.

Drugged up and sleepy,

KJ

~~~~~~~

Dear Twitter People,

Why must you ruin Project Runway for me? I asked nicely, BEFORE it started, to not say anything about the episode while the debate was going on. And then I reminded you all again to please stop revealing spoilers.

Guess what Twitter Spoilers? The West Coast hates you for doing this too.

Don’t make me unfollow you.

Signed,

Seething in Chicago

~~~~~~~

Dear Kristabella,

Please clean me. I’m disgusting, not unlike your unshowered self. I see you sitting on the couch all day, so don’t tell me you’re too busy to clean up the cat hair tumbleweeds. Perfecting the precise ass print on the cushions is not work.

I’m too gross for words.

Sincerely,

Your Apartment

Actually, I just wanted to update you about the state of things here on Unemployment Island. It isn’t as dire as you think. I’m not talking to volleyballs. But I am having deep, philosophical conversations with my cat. She’s very wise. So much in fact that I’m thinking of starting her own Twitter page. Her updates will look something like this: 

cneiowpgh’[io[fj9E0Q]JIp’nv’ GNRIPWPnbfoad;
27 minutes ago from web

KittyKitty

And it would look like that because she is a cat and she just happened to walk across the keyboard. Because she is a cat and therefore cannot Twitter to all her cat peeps about the kick ass seafood medley she just had for dinner. BECAUSE SHE IS A CAT. I have not lost it. Yet.

I have actually gotten into quite a routine while on Unemployment Island. A lot of it is because of the fact that I have nowhere to be and no one to see, so showering and wearing clothes are optional. I have become accustomed to going to bed at 2 AM. It’s my bed time. Which is all fine and good when you get up at 10:30 every morning. That is plenty of sleep to tackle your day.

But this late bedtime is kind of a problem when you have a reason to get up early the following day. Like when your sister-in-law asks you if you wouldn’t mind watching your niece on Saturday morning at 7:30 AM. And you were up the previous day until 2 AM because your body thinks 2 AM is a normal time to fall asleep and won’t succumb to sleepiness a second before. Stupid body.

In addition, while on Unemployment Island I have suffered from severe atrophy in all my muscles. I noticed this when I went to the local store on the Island and brought home heavy bags of groceries. My arms were sore for two days after that. Because I have done nothing more with my arms than pushing the mouse button, typing, using the TV remote and shoveling mass quantities of food into my mouth.

Today I spent most of my time applying for jobs, including one for a manager of social media, which I do have to say, Unemployment Island has made me better qualified for a job in social media. I do actually want off this island soon. I’m getting too used to the ways of the Island. I want more things to talk about. I want to maybe shower every day and possibly leave the house. (Please don’t leave a comment and tell me that yes indeed, I can do this while unemployed. I know this. There is no motivation because I can earn just as much money sitting on the couch as I can outside moving and such.)

I’m a creature of habit. And these habits aren’t necessarily the ones I would like for the rest of my life. They don’t really bode well for someone who wishes to be an active member of society. Active members shower and brush their teeth and don’t have impressions of their asses on the couch cushions. Although you won’t hear me complaining about sleeping after 10 AM every day.

:::

In other blogging news, Hotfessional chose this here blog to review for CommentLuv. So go check it out. I’m the Featured Site! And thankfully Hotfessional has some pull because the first photo they posted of me in that post was not flattering.

Also, just because I want to prove I do actually do things during the day, I did have an interview today. But it wasn’t for a job. It was for an article for the Chicago Tribune about people who hate Halloween. And I’m right up there for the most depressing reason why I hate Halloween.  She found this post while Googling.

If you live in Chicago and hate Halloween, let me know because the reporter is looking for more people to interview!

(I always feel like I have to put an exclamation point after ALL CAPS, since I am shouting. But in my head it is all “IT DOES NOT FIT ME WELL, ahem.” Hence the period.)

Picture it: Chicago’s North Side, a warm late-September day in 2008. (Yes, I’ve been watching too many episodes of The Golden Girls on Lifetime. That part of unemployment SUITS ME JUST FINE!) (That was like a WOO! at the end, hence the exclamation point. Wouldn’t you love to just spend five minutes inside my brain seeing how it works? It’s a scary, scary place.)

Where were we? Right, the streets of the North Side of Chicago today. I have realized that the part of unemployment I do not enjoy is the lack of routine. As much as I love the sleeping in and the late-night episodes of The Golden Girls and The Cosby Show, I really miss having a reason to get up. I’m definitely a creature of habit and enjoy routine much more than the average bear.

Most people would enjoy this time off and do great things like work out hours a day like a celebrity, catch up on correspondence and explore the City and enjoy the lovely weather Chicago has given us lately. (To make up for all the rain, apparently.)

I am not most people. If I don’t have a reason to put on clothes, I don’t. I need a reason to shower. And brush my teeth. And leave the house. Because located in my house is a comfy couch, sugar-free Kool-Aid and loads and loads of daytime television. If I don’t have to get out of bed for an interview or hours of drinking, I’m damn sure not going to get out of bed and go work out just for the hell of it. At least if I have a job I can tell myself, “well, self, you’re already up. And out.”

Today I decided to change that. It is in the 80s here and it is almost October. That means winter will be here soon! Must savor this fantastic weather by actually going out in it! So after a morning and a lot of the early afternoon spent on the computer doing anything but leaving, I finally peeled my ass off the couch and went about leaving! I decided I would walk to the beach, read my book for a few hours and then walk back. Check me out, bitches, exercise AND reading! Stop patting my back, you’re giving me a bruise.

After many tries to leave (oh, need sunblock! And water! And bring those thank you cards to write out! And a towel to sit on in the grass! And don’t forget your book, you dumbass!) I finally walked out the door around 2:30 this afternoon. My mind was so proud of itself. For actually sputtering out more thoughts than “water”, “food” or “Soap Net”.

So I set off. It was very nice out, even nicer right by the lake, and I even accomplished more than one thing on my walk by depositing checks at the bank. I’m a fucking Renaissance Woman! There should be a statue of me.

I headed down to Montrose Harbor and sat down on one of the benches overlooking all the sailboats. It couldn’t have been more perfect. I wrote out all my thank you cards and then dove into Twilight and barely came up for air. (Yes I caved and finally started reading a kid’s book. IT IS SO GOOD! WOO!)

After a few hours, with the contents of my entire 32-ounce bottle of water in my belly, I decided it was time to get home. (To pee.) It was around 5 and I needed to eat something. (And pee.) Because I forgot to pack a snack so I was starting to get cranky and light-headed because I needed food.

I decided to stop at the grocery store on the way home, since I walked right past it and I needed a few things to eat in my house. All healthy! Because I worked out today!

But after the stop at the grocery store, which was just blocks from the beach, my journey started to take a turn for the worse. The sun was really beating down on me on the way home. Right in my eyes! My bladder was full and my stomach was empty. I was getting woozy from the lack of food in my stomach and really wished I had saved some of that water for the walk home. So hot and dehydrated. As I wiped the beaded sweat off my brow, I realized it wasn’t sweat at all. It was crystals of salt. Because one time I read that it sometimes happens to marathoners. And let me tell you, this was a journey.

As I approached Clark Street, I saw a beacon of hope. I was sure it was a mirage and Wile E. Coyote was going to jump out of that oasis of a strip mall complete with a palm tree, small lake and a Baskin Robbins. Because nothing would help me on my long journey more than some ice cream. It would give me that push to make it home. Those six blocks home.

I crawled closer to my imaginary oasis of a strip mall and realized that no, my eyes were not playing tricks on me. That was indeed a strip mall. With a 7-11! And a Baskin Robbins! Slurpees and ice cream! Hoorah!

But no, I told myself. I must press on. Those sugary treats will do nothing but fill you up on empty calories and your nearly four-mile walk will have all been for nothing. NOTHING! So I pressed on.

As I made it closer to Ashland, I realized that it was rush hour and there should be a bus coming soon. People need to get home from their jobs. And sweaty, out-of-shape lazy people also need to get home. Preferably without pulling something. A mode of transportation that involved sitting was just what the doctor ordered. I looked and there were no buses around. There was nothing for miles around, except cars and houses and a liquor store. It is the North Side of Chicago and all.

Finally I approached my house. Wheezing with every step. Yearning for just one drop of water just like people crossing the desert. I debated about stealing food off a stranger’s plate at an outdoor cafe because I was just so hungry.

I turned the corner on my block. As I paused to reminisce about my long journey where I almost died, I turned to look back, not at all fondly, at the terrain I covered and saw the Montrose bus whiz past me. As it passed, I shook my fist in the air and cursed the bus Gods for not helping me out.

When I finally made it into my apartment, crawling up those three flights of stairs, I ate a string cheese, took a nap and pondered the meaning of today’s adventure, looking for a Sophia Petrillo-like moral of the story. Clearly, I’m destined to be employed, behind a desk and lazy for the rest of my days.

And that fits me like a glove.

And that is all I can talk about. Because as a person who is currently “between opportunities”, I don’t do much during the day.  For instance, here is what I did today:

• Woke up around 10:30. Forcing myself to get out of bed because I could have slept until noon.
• I ate some cereal. (Take that Maggie Mason.)
• Read blogs.
• Checked my email.
• Read more blogs. (Seriously, it was my goal for the day. I started at almost 400 new posts this morning and now I’m down to 100. I read A LOT of blogs.)
• Watched some TV. Did you know Soap Net runs back to back episodes of The O.C. followed by back-to-back episodes of the OG 90210? My new unemployed life includes being on the couch disconnected from the world for 4 hours from 2-6 PM.
• This is the most boring blog post ever.
• I’m not sure I brushed my teeth.
• Oh, I did my laundry, so I had to leave the house.
• I guest posted here yesterday. (That’s probably more exciting. Go read that.)
• Have you guys seen that Bowflex commercial with that ginormous douchebag who talks about how he lost like 70 inches off his waist? You know the guy who is all “I gave all my fat clothes to my fat friends”? Let me tell you, there is not way that guy has friends.
• And also, Bowflex, that is the just the reason why I wouldn’t use your equipment. You should change your new tagline to “Bowflex: Turns you into a walking douchebag.”
• This post is why I’m forcing myself to leave the house tomorrow. And hopefully brush my teeth. For the sake of this blog and so that you people will come back to read when it isn’t CRAP anymore. I will shower for the people.

You are welcome.

Today was also the first day it really kind of hit me that HELLO! UNEMPLOYED! YOU DON’T KNOW WHERE YOUR NEXT MEAL IS COMING FROM! And I may have had a bit of a pity party for myself on my couch all afternoon because holy shitballs, I have been through a lot and am just now processing it. And this pity party involved a lot of tears and a nap. Because I tired myself out from all the crying.

I know this is a temporary thing. I know I will find something. It may be this week and it may be in a few months, but I know this won’t last too long. But that is not how it feels. It doesn’t feel like a vacation. Because I know I will not see my ex-co-workers again in a work setting. I know that while I lounge on the couch, emails and voicemails aren’t piling up at the office. It doesn’t feel temporary or good. It feels depressing. A big, giant, suffocating blanket of depressing.

So Day One was a big, giant FAIL WHALE. But tomorrow should be better. Tomorrow is supposed to be sunny. And tomorrow I have to get my ass out of bed and go on an interview. Where I just hope I don’t weep all over the interviewer. Because when I tear up at Lauren and Audrina’s little chat on The Hills, you know it is BAD.