Your Unemployed Daughter

photo credit: pixelcatcher

This week I feel not so much unemployed as underemployed. Yes, I’m going into an office a few days a week and doing some things that will make me some money, and it’s all very la la la/easy breezy beautiful, but it’s not a challenge so to speak. And while I, as always, have no complaints about having work, it’s a weird adjustment to go from super busy and productive to feeling kind of—well—bored.

Which is to say, skills that I believe to be fairly evident and even bursting at the human seams to be taken advantage of are falling ill from lack of use and perhaps even on the way to becoming vestigal organs that may eventually fall off completely.

Or, I’m just cranky crankerson.

It’s true, my legs are covered in weird red bites, it was awfully hard to get through pilates at the gym last night, and I’ve allowed my brain to wilt in a cloud of television, some bad, some good. (Is anyone else watching the new 90210 and finding it highly disturbing, in the best way possible?)

And, of course, Labor Day is over. It’s officially September, it’s gray and gloomy, the next real day-off holiday isn’t til November (sorry, Columbus), and my white jeans are in the laundry for the duration. I’m working on a 16-page newsletter. And I’m not even sure I feel like drinking!

What’s wrong with me? Is this a case of the September blahs?

Sigh. I do like fall, though. I like wearing cozy sweaters and picking out the perfect pumpkin and planning ski vacations which I may or may not actually go on. I like the idea of sitting around in cafes sipping hot chocolate, or coffee, or red wine. I like jackets, and crisp air, and the neverending variety of apples that will soon be available. Oooh, and making chili. That’s something I haven’t done all summer.

Does anyone else feel weirdly blue? Is this simply the to-be-expected results of a 4-day weekend? Early onset seasonal affective disorder?

Or, maybe it’s finally sinking in that, after 3 months of summer and going on 4 months of unemployment, I need to figure some shit out. I have to say, despite the positives of being laid off—freedom, creativity, deciding what you really want to do, and how, and why—there are times when it’s just hard to go from having 10 years of experience and being committed and respected in a field, even making it your life, to suddenly being “the freelancer” who’s only needed around a couple days a week to send stuff to the client and has taken to changing the toner in the printer when necessary (cyan is blue, folks) because at least it makes her feel a little bit useful.

Mmph. So maybe I need to get a life. Or just buy a sun lamp and be done with it.