Unstoppable

Last week I saw this movie about a train. Some idiot had jumped out of the train cab, leaving the machine on autopilot and it got out of control. Barreling down the tracks at 77 mph, un-manned, it destroyed every blockade that was put in its way, endangering the lives of thousands of people. I enjoyed the movie. I would not presume to recommend it to anyone because, as my boyfriend once told me, "Train movies are lame." So, I leave the choice up to you, my dear reader.

I sit here at my desk, in a slightly messy bedroom, listening to the pounding footsteps of my upstairs neighbor and her insipid Saturday morning television cranked at full volume, and I feel a bit like that poor fool who left the locomotive and couldn't run fast enough to get back in the train cab. Of course I'm being a bit dramatic, as I am wont to do, but life seems suddenly like it got away from me and I feel a bit aimless, unproductive, and without direction.

Most of this stems from the fact that I'm unemployed with very little to keep me busy except for writing cover letters and sending out resumes for jobs for which I am only semi-qualified. As this is the only thing I do all day, my attitude has been pretty defeatist. It's something I'm not proud of, and I have vowed to change this "baditude" (as my friend Anne would say) for a more optimistic outlook. But it's difficult to do when there's very little to look forward to in life except for wondering what will happen next on your favorite reality show, or sit-com, or soap opera. I get excited about human interaction because it means I don't have to spend another night in front of a screen trying to prove in four paragraphs or less why I'm employable. Unfortunately, often social interaction requires cash, something that is a very rare commodity in my apartment and must be reserved for food and toilet paper.

Over the Christmas holiday, some of my friends mentioned to me that you should take unemployment as a gift and soak up every chance you have to be lazy. They said their husband, their friend, their relative was so upset about being unemployed but then once they got a job, they looked back on their lethargic days fondly, and wished life could be so simple, so carefree once again. That's a lot easier said than done. I never realized how much work matters to our society, but everywhere I look people talk about bettering themselves on the pay-scale, promotions, interviews, prestige. To a society where work defines you, and for someone who enjoys being busy, being unemployed feels rather shameful and it's easy to get stuck in self-doubt and self-deprecation, and I excel in these emotions, I'm quite good at them. I have always held pretty high standards for myself and I'm upset with myself when I don't meet them.

I have a part-time job as a nanny. It's not a job I would choose for myself, but I'm desperate for money, and the 16 month old girl is a sweetheart who "really enjoyed meeting me," whatever that may mean to a 16 month old. Sadly, this job doesn't start for another two weeks, which is not accommodating to my cash-flow problem. I have another part-time job at the Milwaukee Art Museum, unfortunately they only need me for about three to four days a month. The moral of the story is, "Life is difficult," as my fake-grandpa used to tell me. Food-service and retail, here I come. I'm dreading it. But life, like a train, is Unstoppable, and until I can jump back into the cab and reduce the throttle, I guess I'll have to jog along, hoping, praying, I get a chance to get back on the tracks.

Thank you for bearing with my train metaphor. I'm off to write more cover-letters. Ciao.