Jimbo.Info

« designing women | Main | whoreascope »

October 3, 2002

escape

Last night I chatted with Bob in the frozen food aisle of the Soviet Safeway. Bob is a chaplain of some sort. So of course I started confessing right there next to the Bird's Eye frozen green beans. Since I wasn't raised Catholic, confessions just come out of me like pus from a zit. Sometimes just a little squeeze is all it takes to shoot it out all over the mirror.

Of course the only thing I talk about lately is my job situation. It's pretty much the only thing I think about. That's why my blog entries have been so good, and why I've been playing CivIII so much. Escapism. A few minutes of focused writing, lost from my constant worrying, is bliss. Focusing on where to build my next aqueduct as Montezuma or Cleopatra keeps my mind off other things.

So I talk to Bob about next week, what I'm not sure is going to happen, how I'm working on resolving my situation, and whatnot. That maniacal giggle that has accompanied my phrases since February came out again between the words. That crazy little giggle that's both a question and a statement.

They say that after you take E on Saturday night, all the mood-balancing Seratonin is squeezed out of your head a few days later, setting you up for a grumpy or depressed Tuesday or Wednesday. Conversely, what happens when all you feel is dread and anxiety all the time? After a while all your grumpiness is squeezed out of your head, and you can't worry and fret anymore.

While I'm not happy, I'm somewhat giddy these days. I don't care anymore, because I can't. It's just not worth it. Anxiety takes too much energy, and I've already worried about everything that's going to come hit me. I am simply tired of being scared and worried. You don't think straight when you're depressed or filled with anxiety, and I can't afford any decision-making mistakes these days.

People at work are worried about me. My last day is Wednesday next week (don't send e-mail to that address, by the way. Send it to Jimbo3DC@aol.com) They ask in meetings, "So what are you doing after this?" I respond by telling them I don't know. I honestly don't know. There may be another temp gig coming up, but I can always fall back on unemployment. Then they go scramble to find job openings and announcements for me. People I don't even know are doing this. I'm really quite flattered and it's good to know they are concerned.

Now that I've stopped payments on the car, the biweekly checks won't be so insufficient. I've worked out an agreement with the roomate, and the bank knows I'm on the fast track to shit creek. I still have a few things to fall back on, and it's not the worst it can get.

It seems almost every week on NPR there's a short story or interview about someone in NYC hit by the 9/11-related economic crisis. A woman with a Masters degree visiting the soup kitchen for the first time, or a financial planner whose company was obliterated along with the buildings, along with his 401k plan. One useful thing I got out out of those programs was a phrase of advice: visualize how bad it could possibly get. What's the worst that could happen? A truthful projection of the worst isn't always so bad as it may seem.

Earlier this spring my imagination went hog wild and I visualized the worst that would never come. I wasn't thinking clearly, as I was full of worry and anxiety, which fueled the possibilities in my mind to an inflated degree. Now, I think about the worst and it ain't that bad. I just set myself on auto-pilot: pay rent, buy food, search for jobs, send out resumes, meet up with friends. Kind of numb, I guess, but no longer worried.

The next event to steel myself against is my anniversary of losing my job. February is a long way off yet, and something could develop, but we'll see.

Posted by jimbo at October 3, 2002 3:50 PM

Comments

Posted by: mike s. at October 3, 2002 4:15 PM

Posted by: Jason at October 5, 2002 9:41 PM