There’s
a movie called Perks of Being a Wallflower that came out within the last few years
or so. If you went to see the movie, you either went because you have a crush
on Emma Watson (guy or girl, it doesn’t matter) or you wanted to find out the
perks, because you are a wallflower. SPOILER ALERT, WALLFLOWERS: There are no
perks! So I just ruined it for you. If that movie taught me anything, it was
that the perks of being a wallflower include:
-General angst
-Terrible childhood trauma
-Making poor life decisions
-Falling in love with Emma Watson
but not telling her until the last five minutes of the movie and then she goes
off to college anyway which leads us back to where we started:
-General angst
Let
me be clear: THOSE ARE NOT PERKS. Whoever wrote that book was lying. I’m going
to lay out some real perks of real life. Here is some honesty for ya. These are…
THE
PERKS OF BEING
(in my case, partially)
UNEMPLOYED
(Cue
90s folk ballad, artsy direction, slouchy beanie, Emma Watson)
(No,
let’s get rid of Emma. Pretty sure she’s employed.)
ONE // YOU’RE NOT BORING YET. Your
future hasn’t been decided for you by the job gods yet, so technically you’re
still not locked into what the rest of your life is supposed to be. You’re in
limbo, which is kind of cool! Don’t they make sci-fi movies about that sort of
stuff? Like, being trapped in between two dimensions? Yeaah. That’s basically
your life. OOH! So you could tell people you’re a dimension traveler or a time
warlock! Not boring. Boom.
TWO // YOU DON’T DREAD MONDAYS! I was
just eating some food and stuff in NYC with some random new acquaintances after
church and they all were talking about was how much they hated Mondays. It was
a thrilling 5 minutes of originality, one that enlightened me as to the
dullness of jobby conversations. Hey jobby person! My unemployed tushie will
still be in bed when you’re stuck on the train or in the car going to work, and
I’ll be dreaming sweet dreams about what having one of those mythical jobs is
like. I have nothing to dread. Sucks for both of us?
THREE // YOU DON’T HAVE TO COMMUTE. You don't have to deal with Traffic or The MTA or The Parkway or ANYTHING.
Your life is defined by the freedom of being able to conveniently work on all
those mediocre versions of your cover letter from the safety of your laptop.
Commute = 6 feet from your bed to your desk. Awesome. Doesn’t even require
pants.
FOUR // YOU DON’T HAVE TO PACK/BUY YOUR
LUNCH. I don’t have to worry about eating a PB+J in front of rich coworkers
like a loser, not do I feel the peer pressure to go out and buy a fancy $11
salad from Pret to look like a grown-ass woman who’s got her life together. I
don’t have to wait in line for an office microwave or haul my Tupperware
container and eco-friendly reusable fork in my 80-lb Mary Poppins purse for the
rest of the day. I can eat in the privacy of my own kitchen, with my dog
at my feet. Jealous? Well, I’m jealous of your job. We’ll call it even.
FIVE // YOU CAN READ THIS BLOG. Let’s be
real. If you were employed at a jobby job, you would hit your snooze button
until you absolutely had to drag yourself out of bed, go on that horrid
aforementioned commute, work work work at your job and try not to cry or
question the meaninglessness of life, come home, eat everything, sit in front
of your computer/smartphone /TV until 9:30pm, when you begin to feel a little tired
and go to sleep questioning your lab-rat-like existence. Ain’t nobody got time
to read blog posts in between all that grownup-ness! Especially my posts,
because they tend to be hella long. But without a job, go ahead and spend all
day reading blogs. Live your life.
SIX // EVERYONE FEELS SORRY FOR YOU. No,
this is not a bad thing! Pity from well-meaning relatives or people you meet is
a great opportunity for taking up a love offering in the form of food, clothes,
hope, money, etc. Work on your best puppy dog face and talk about being a millennial
liberal arts grad in This Economy. Capitalize the T and the E…it helps. Work on
your tears. Then you can put “panhandling” and “emotional manipulation” on your
skills section of your resume, which we all know still needs a little extra
padding anyway if you’re going to land that entry-level dream job.
SEVEN // YOU’RE TOO UN-LABEL-ABLE FOR A
LABEL. BECAUSE YOU DON’T HAVE ONE. I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m not an Analyst or a
Program Coordinator or an Executive Associate. Or even an Intern. Lady, I am a
Metaphorical Unicorn Prancing through a Magical Land of Uncertainty Battling Doom,
Depression and Broke-ness…from which I shall certainly emerge victorious and
jobby and cooler than you. Optional responses to polite inquires about what you
do for a living include: “I’m looking for work, but I don’t think it’s looking
for me” or “I’m currently dodging social norms as an experiment on the meaning
of group-constructed reality…so actually I need to leave this conversation bye”
EIGHT // YOU’VE DITCHED YOUR ENTITLEMENT
FOR YOUR DIGNITY. By this point of your career in unemployment – which, really,
feels more like a career every passing day – you’ve stopped applying to jobs
like you can just snap your fingers and have them begging for you at your feet.
That is soooo 2012. You’ve let go of your shackles of feeling Special and
Unique and Different from the other applicants. You’re okay with being just
another guy in a long list of interviews. Congratulations, you are now an adult,
humbly holding on to your dignity and grasping a realistic perspective of your
place in the universe. Awesome! Most adults take YEARS AND YEARS to get to this
level of emotional enlightenment, but they got jobs right after graduation and
never got a chance to do some deep soul-searching until their
secretary-affair-red-convertible midlife crisis at 54. Boom. You beat them to
the punch, and saved yourself from ruining your marriage and wasting your money
in the future. That’s waaaay better than having a job. Right?
NINE // YOU CAN PRETEND YOU ARE THE
PROTAGONIST IN AN INDIE FILM. It’s raining, and you’re going back to the mall
to return a pair of pants you can’t fit into? It’s the only time you’ve left
the house today? Crank up that Bon Iver, and stare longingly out the window through
the raindrops at the hot guy waiting for the bus. [You may or may not be
wearing a slouchy beanie.] He might look up and you’ll make eye contact and he’ll
smile. Magical. It’s the beginning of a beautiful unemployed love story. Annnnd….CUT!
Okay, so you have a lot of good BEGINNINGS for indie romcoms. Maybe you need to
work on those endings. But hey, every great hipster started out in a coffee
shop somewhere, inevitably with Bon Iver playing in the background, making hot
eye contact with strangers and living in their parents’ basement teaching themselves
some ethnic instrument to drown out their postgrad angst. You can too. If
you’re lucky, Wes Anderson might secretly record it and turn it into Moonrise Kingdom 2: All Grown Up and Still Awkward.
TEN // YOU CAN TAKE CRAZY RISKS BECAUSE
YOU HAVE NOTHING TO LOSE. I currently teach swim lessons, do some freelance writing
for my grandma, volunteer with Hope for New York as a grant research assistant,
and started going to a church that is an hour and a half away from me in
another state. I’m flirting with the idea of going to Oregon or Hawaii for an
intensive kayaking whitewater course, or spending six months in Africa. On
Wednesday, I was hanging out in a bar in NYC with 20 people I had never met
before. I also take naps, cuddle with my puppy, exercise a lot, call friends, and
watch lots of movies…pretty much whenever I want. People with jobs would kill
to trade lives with me for a few weeks. Instead of my life being a stately,
organized orchestral opus, my life is a jazz piece being made up as I go along.
No rules. No boundaries. [Except for the fact that I live at home.] This kind
of freedom is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I’m trying to embrace this
limitlessness and let it take me where it will. Which might be Africa. Take
that, Jobbers.
Did
I miss anything? Are there other perks of being unemployed? Tell me how you’re
rocking it in the comments.
Questing into a Magical Land of Uncertainty,
xoxo
Jo
Jo, you never cease to amaze and amuse. This is one of my favorite posts of yours so far. :)
ReplyDeleteLove it!!! This is so beautifully written...ive never read your work before, it's wonderful!
ReplyDeleteTake heart my dear one, there's always a light at the end of the tunnel. Being unemployed sure can stink, (i know, ive been there!) However, I'm super proud of you for intentionally deciding to look at the positives! ~katie