At the end of my third day w/o any form of nicotine or smoke I lie awake feeling the pulsations of my stomach. It's a Tuesday now and in 12 hrs or so my cramps will be evident. It's strange how life beyond college has regulated my body. My period runs like clockwork. My internal clock runs like... well, a pretty accurate clock.
Today has been different from the last many. I had the house all to myself. The silence and slow breaths of an empty home are like heavy waves on the ocean. My limp body floats up and down with the beauty of a lackadaisical afternoon.
The last few weeks have been a constant list of worries. Did I call that lady back? Did I print off that sheet? When do I work? Is that appointment today or tomorrow? Has that check arrived yet? Have any of my friends responded? What is going on in his head?
Why do I keep asking myself these benign questions? Dammit, go to sleep!
It's a mundane script.
So, here I am: listening to my music shuffled for the first time in months, flitting around between articles, tapping my feet.
According to an article about insomnia most people can't sleep due to impatience while trying to get to sleep. Instead of following the 6, 78 or 9 different tricks to attaining sleep, I am listening to Reel Fish. Yeah, Ska doesn't put me to sleep either.
Before I fall asleep every night, I make a list of what I need to be doing. To calm myself down, I try to organize that list into a manageable schedule. Oddly, most of my real concerns are about the things I think about least: the career world.
I received notification from the person I interviewed with for the internship. They aren't going to have interns for the fall. Given the silent time after the interview, I assumed as much. A breath later, the person tells me that they'd like me to do a blog for one of their sites. The pay is not worth mentioning and there's a limit on posts, but it's a step. A step where I'm not serving appetizers, measuring women's busts or unloading shipment one garment at a time.
I got that call and an email with a tax form to fill out around a week ago.
Getting back to the impatience thing-- I am, that is: impatient.
A mentor of mine once told me of sending out poems for publication: keep tabs on the where, when and what.... but one you send it, forget about it until/if you receive a reply.
My dad says, "You're on their schedule....Looking for a job is often a waiting game."
My first boss, Mr. David Bauer, always said, "Everything here is a 'hurry up and wait' game. You can't plan anything...your'e on their clock, but they're payin' so I'm not complainin'."
A side note on Bauer:
One of my favorite curmudgeons in the world. One of the only people whose sarcasm is almost a part of their body. So many people find him to be a hard pill to swallow. I would call those people cheap. My first boss, wherever he is now, is the first person I was patient enough to get to know past first impression. He was my mentor for many years and an inspiration. In a world where only wealthy, corporate lives are revered, Bauer was comfortable with working the theatre. Lights, sound, spot, drops... those were the days...my favorite job ever.
On top of waiting for call, I am also waiting for a call-- about the editing job I interviewed for. I keep telling myself to call but am scared. I've been told so many times to be confident in myself, over and over and all I can think is: now I'm just self-conscious about trying to be confident. I'm chasing my tail.
My current job is spinning me in circles. It's not the career path I ever wanted but it's where I am. When I'm there, I'm there an nothing else matters. When I'm not there, the thought of being there makes my innards sprint a random pattern as if through a maze.
"After five years of [insert expletive] and [ridiculous sum of money], I am still working for less than a quarter over min. wage."
At some point, I had a point to make with this post. I got lost somewhere around reminiscing about my first job and sighing deeply when comparing my current job and my student loans.
College is like rolling heavy stones up a hill. One at a time. Two a year.
Job searching is like golfing. Line it up. Swing. Watch and wait. Cross fingers. Hit or miss.
Another thing about post-college life I've been forgetting to attend to: friends. In college, friends and peers are everywhere. Class, cafe, library...everywhere!
After college, I have no idea. I was warned but now I know-- finding friends in the adult world is much more difficult.
Until tonight, I was relying on my family and boyfriend to be enough company to keep. Over the last three days, boyfriend and I have been quitting smoking. He suggested (many many many times) that I avoid him while he does so. He's on vacation now--sitting at home in his boxers playing video games and sleeping and God knows what else.
With this eventful free-time on my hands, my isolation is glaring. I've been looking up book clubs or women's social events, but nothing seems promising.
Tonight, I am proud to announce I may have made a friend.
(Strange how such a simple thing was so recently an errant event.)
Today has been different from the last many. I had the house all to myself. The silence and slow breaths of an empty home are like heavy waves on the ocean. My limp body floats up and down with the beauty of a lackadaisical afternoon.
The last few weeks have been a constant list of worries. Did I call that lady back? Did I print off that sheet? When do I work? Is that appointment today or tomorrow? Has that check arrived yet? Have any of my friends responded? What is going on in his head?
Why do I keep asking myself these benign questions? Dammit, go to sleep!
It's a mundane script.
So, here I am: listening to my music shuffled for the first time in months, flitting around between articles, tapping my feet.
According to an article about insomnia most people can't sleep due to impatience while trying to get to sleep. Instead of following the 6, 78 or 9 different tricks to attaining sleep, I am listening to Reel Fish. Yeah, Ska doesn't put me to sleep either.
Before I fall asleep every night, I make a list of what I need to be doing. To calm myself down, I try to organize that list into a manageable schedule. Oddly, most of my real concerns are about the things I think about least: the career world.
I received notification from the person I interviewed with for the internship. They aren't going to have interns for the fall. Given the silent time after the interview, I assumed as much. A breath later, the person tells me that they'd like me to do a blog for one of their sites. The pay is not worth mentioning and there's a limit on posts, but it's a step. A step where I'm not serving appetizers, measuring women's busts or unloading shipment one garment at a time.
I got that call and an email with a tax form to fill out around a week ago.
Getting back to the impatience thing-- I am, that is: impatient.
A mentor of mine once told me of sending out poems for publication: keep tabs on the where, when and what.... but one you send it, forget about it until/if you receive a reply.
My dad says, "You're on their schedule....Looking for a job is often a waiting game."
My first boss, Mr. David Bauer, always said, "Everything here is a 'hurry up and wait' game. You can't plan anything...your'e on their clock, but they're payin' so I'm not complainin'."
A side note on Bauer:
One of my favorite curmudgeons in the world. One of the only people whose sarcasm is almost a part of their body. So many people find him to be a hard pill to swallow. I would call those people cheap. My first boss, wherever he is now, is the first person I was patient enough to get to know past first impression. He was my mentor for many years and an inspiration. In a world where only wealthy, corporate lives are revered, Bauer was comfortable with working the theatre. Lights, sound, spot, drops... those were the days...my favorite job ever.
On top of waiting for call, I am also waiting for a call-- about the editing job I interviewed for. I keep telling myself to call but am scared. I've been told so many times to be confident in myself, over and over and all I can think is: now I'm just self-conscious about trying to be confident. I'm chasing my tail.
My current job is spinning me in circles. It's not the career path I ever wanted but it's where I am. When I'm there, I'm there an nothing else matters. When I'm not there, the thought of being there makes my innards sprint a random pattern as if through a maze.
"After five years of [insert expletive] and [ridiculous sum of money], I am still working for less than a quarter over min. wage."
At some point, I had a point to make with this post. I got lost somewhere around reminiscing about my first job and sighing deeply when comparing my current job and my student loans.
College is like rolling heavy stones up a hill. One at a time. Two a year.
Job searching is like golfing. Line it up. Swing. Watch and wait. Cross fingers. Hit or miss.
Another thing about post-college life I've been forgetting to attend to: friends. In college, friends and peers are everywhere. Class, cafe, library...everywhere!
After college, I have no idea. I was warned but now I know-- finding friends in the adult world is much more difficult.
Until tonight, I was relying on my family and boyfriend to be enough company to keep. Over the last three days, boyfriend and I have been quitting smoking. He suggested (many many many times) that I avoid him while he does so. He's on vacation now--sitting at home in his boxers playing video games and sleeping and God knows what else.
With this eventful free-time on my hands, my isolation is glaring. I've been looking up book clubs or women's social events, but nothing seems promising.
Tonight, I am proud to announce I may have made a friend.
(Strange how such a simple thing was so recently an errant event.)
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