Unemploymentosphere

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breaking out of Groundhog Day is finding a way not to try

This is going to be something of a week, historical. Which 2 seasons of MASH would describe it best?

Also, it’s been an interesting week of dvd’s from the library. Some of the possibly symbolic movies availible were Synecdoche new york, Brazil and Groundhog’s day. There are all these “dark” remakes: batman, battlestar galactica, but they have happier endings. Bleak movies and tragedies, now those are movies with balls. I’m pretty sure dystopic movies are to men what chick flick rom coms are to women. Instead of crying, those movies make us want to drink or go out in anger and shoot things (for me, in a video game). Whack a mole gets out more anger, but all the kids look at you with apprehension. I also got mean girls, I also saw before. I needed a hot actresses movie, but smart. Odd.

Cover of "Synecdoche New York"

Cover of Synecdoche New York

I got so many of my “1 timer” errands done, I scramble for something exciting or “juicy” this week. Most of what I have to do are 8-9 projects that I’ve been picking away at. For mon- Thursday, I prioritized in descending order which ones could make me money, maybe not necessarily the most, but the most immediate.

For the weekend, I overlapped a couple per day and these are things that require me to go back and sort thru things, like paper filing that I pick and pare away at. Someday I’m going to blow out a very large paper shredder with the 4 boxes of paper and growing.

This week is the last opportunity I have to go to Santa Cruz beach boardwalk before they go to weekend operation for the fall. I went to the fair and was happy, fighting off a couple of bouts of sadness. I have to evaluate in my head how much I need to do one more summer-y thing. I’ve been so smart with money, I now see a day in Santa Cruz as sacrificing a weekly credit card payment. I haven’t been able to make much progress since spring as it is. It bothers me.

Late evening at the Boardwalk

Late evening at the Boardwalk (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

When I’ve had jobs, I piss away the money as I get it. I criticize people for being stupid in doing that and here I am wanting to do that with no income. The most important goal I can make a dent on is paying off that one credit card. I seem to think I need to treat myself to something new, to maybe inspire me, or just let me have fun.

I allotted myself a “fun” budget in the form of netflix, all the classic tv series and documentaries in my mailbox 6 days a week. When I’m lucky, I get a classic on Saturday I have an extra day to watch. Then I have the free dvds I check out from the library, for all my random movie curiosities. Also, the books there that promise to solve all my problems. I have read more books that I ever did in school and have no kind of diploma or certificate for my accomplishments, just a PhD in “street smarts.”

You know the classic angel and devil on your shoulder arguing about what you should do? I recently became obsessed with deciding what 2 characters sit on my shoulders since I’m atheist. I’ve decided that whatever embodies “bad” is snaky, sarcastic, selfish, narcissist. So basically a socialite with a reality show with a life stuck in tabloids.

And then whatever I choose to represent good isn’t morning talk show/ morning radio zoo cheery, but they’re optimistic. They see opportunities. They’re also punk rock, fuck the establishment, do your own thing, create art that hasn’t been done before. Don’t fake happiness, but actually feel it. I scramble every week to find the magic that I know people saw in me when I was in college or one of the many jobs I made fun for other people while thinking it was a lead filled backpack for me.

I don’t know what to call it, but I’m afraid to have fun unless I’m being productive and/ or learning something. I can readily see how being unemployed is advantageous when I look down at someone else’s cubicle, but it’s tough to maintain when I don’t get that little piece of paper every other Friday that would get me more than a kid’s happy meal when I go out.

I think back to all the interviews that got me the job. I presented my case like I do now, and follow a bunch of “this but not that“s. I’m doing something I can’t even see on videotaping myself that doesn’t get the same result. So it goes back to those 3 phone numbers. What if more than 1 is fucking me over. I really just want to know which or what, so I can deal with it instead of trying to punch a ghost blindfolded.

This is going to be something of a week, historical. 2 years ago on the 31st, it’s the day I threw the rest of my things in a moving truck and left my girlfriend and city I love to move back here to shitstain, California, with my only support, companion and friend being my pretty girl cat.

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2012/08/27 - Posted by | random trains of thought- choo choo | , , , , , , ,

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