Everything old is new again

Sunday night nearing midnight. I sit listening to a "This American Life" podcast. Occasionally, I get up to do dishes, which seem never ending.

It's been more than a year. A full year of unemployment. March 19, 2006, I came to Chicago full of hope and expectations for a new beginning. Instead, I received a lot of condescending interviews, conflicting advice and a return to poverty. Unemployment is a sobering experience - one that makes you doubt who you are and what you do... what you should be doing, what you do well. It is, perhaps, something everyone should experience. The irony of it all is that it comes at a time when you're supposed to be a one-man marketing department, explaining via cover letter, email, resume, interview how you can rock everyone's world - only in a non-threatening, traditional way. The whole process is exhausting, degrading and depressing.

I've been temping for roughly nine months now. Luckily, I've only had two assignments in those nine months, so I've not bounced around from office to office everyday. If being unemployed is hellish, temping is simply hell. Everyone assumes, until you prove otherwise, that because you are a temp that you have no skills or brain. For the first week or so, many even just call you "The Temp" as if you've been robbed of your identity for being so damn stupid. Crap pay and non-existent benefits add to the rewarding experience. The capstone, however, is the ex-sorority sisters who work at the temp agencies judging you to see if you are appropriate for a position. Ten years of experience on a resume and one asked me "well, this is all great, but have you made travel arrangements for people or handled someone's calendar?" Um, no, but I was a corporate consultant at 20, so I'm sure I could handle it.

Entering into a tough phase of your life can bring out friends who want to lend a hand or an ear. Get stuck in that phase too long however, and suddenly people fade - not having the time or energy to remain involved. The best are people who just gloss over it with things like "It'll change soon, I can feel it" or "Look on the bright side..." - these two dominate the radiant insights. In a world of security and excessive planning, the word "unemployed" is the new "cancer" - fearfully said in a hushed tone as if it's a disease that's easily transferable. After college, there's a number of tracks one can choose, but there's an expectation that once on that track the person will chug comfortably along it. Jumping tracks is a sure fire way to confuse and overwhelm the people in your life who will most often sit you down to discuss the assumed-to-be-forgotten benefits of the misbegotten track. Unemployment isn't about a new track - it's about a train suspended in midair. Understandably, no one wants to stick around to see how that goes. When the dust is settled, people will return to hypothesize how it went right or wrong. At that point, all the former insiders cement themselves as mere spectators.

Extended unemployment creates this cavern that can't quite ever be filled. A teenage identity crisis, only with rent and bills due.

Sunday night and I'm up late putzing around the house in my pajamas, allowing my thoughts to drift. There's no Monday schedule to keep - simply a few calls and emails to send filled with fake enthusiasm and confidence. So very Glengarry Glen Ross.