Jul 5, 2013

Here We Go: The Post-Firing Numbness Fades

All right. Not all right. We're having some problems. Mostly depression-related, I think. A week ago Tuesday my position at work was eliminated, leaving me to depend on a meager amount of government assistance while scrambling to find a job---sadly there's nothing anywhere near here in my field and I'm tied to the area. So that's that. Granted, I've talked to enough potential employers and friends-of-employers, but there's nothing exciting out there.

I spent the first partial-week of unemployment like it were a vacation---my former employer paid me through the end of the week, so I figured why not. Why not fuck off for a few days doing whatever I want---disc golfing, music, video games, entertaining the idea of taking a major supporting role in a local rock opera. Why the fuck not. The weekend hit, and it was filled with good beer and smoke and lots of time spent with my love. Naturally good.

Then came Monday. Week one. Department of workforce development searches. Stressing over money. Online registrations. Immediately having to call someone in a government-run IT support center who answered the phone by saying, "This is Bruce," because their system is archaic yet charming in a way only government systems can be. An existence almost so shittingly dysfunctional (and in many cases outright corrupt) the only thing stopping them from being completely dismantled is the peoples' fear of the empty space doing such a thing would create.

But I digress, that's probably gonna happen a lot in this one. I'm a bit depressed.

I've done not very much this week. Looked for work on Monday. Cut the lawn, tried to keep myself busy. Fished. Caught a nice bass while out. It's all a surreal feeling. Like I'm old, like I'm retired. But the three-hundred bucks a week isn't going to make it work. It's not fucking easy to live off the government, let me tell you, especially if you want to do drugs. I'm not saying I am! But people who bitch about others who live off of welfare---get a life or shut up or worry more about how else you can help people in need. Cause fuck. I was making shit at my job before I was let go.

Now I'm taking in over $100 less than I was per week before. Guess what? I'm going to get approximately four checks each month. Three of those checks will be going directly to bills---most of that utilities---a small car payment and an even smaller student loan payment. The last of that is expected to pay for a small amount of luxuries I'd like to continue enjoying each month? Not gonna happen. Going to have to cut what little luxuries we allow ourselves.

So that's where I'm at. Where we're at. What brings us to the heart of why I'm here at home in front of the computer while my love and the kids are at the fireworks. After a migraine wiped me out physically yesterday, and depression today mentally, I chose not to go---so I'm here by choice.

What I haven't done yet is retreated. Not at all. I'm still putting it out there, for her, for anyone. To judge, to make assumptions (both correctly and not), to relate and to whatever. I don't really give a fuck to be honest. I'm putting this out there because I believe it's good for me. This is a selfish thing. Or a chronicling thing. So I can look back and read this. So I can remember what a fucking idiot asshole I can be.

To remember I haven't retreated since before the first entry in this blog, no rage.

To remember.