Back to the Rat Race

So I finally got a job and I just completed my first week of the grind. I had been laid off since February so I had been living the high life for the last nine months. This 40 plus hour work week is really starting to cramp my style. Not sleeping in sucks.

But seriously, I’m really grateful to be working again, and working in my chosen field no less. I have no complaints.

The unemployment experience has been enlightening. Basically there are three camps of unemployed people: Married people with families that really need it, disillusioned single people wondering where they went wrong in life, and single people that are getting a paid vacation from the government and are having the time of their lives.

I believe that last group has a technical name: funemployed.

I traversed the later two camps, seemingly going from one to the other on a daily basis. One the one hand I got to go to California, Australia, and party hard for every Packer home game with no repercussions on Monday (and one time on a Tuesday).

On the other hand, looking for work and filling out applications is a pain in the ass and sitting around watching day time television is down right depressing.

One of the worst aspects of being unemployed is running into acquaintances around town and they ask you how the job hunting is going.

“Awesome. I’m unshaven and hanging out at Barnes and Noble in my sweatpants on a Tuesday morning because my job search is going awesome. Thank you for asking.”

Seriously, you may think you are offering moral support but that question always leads to awkwardness and more humiliation. If you want to offer moral support to an unemployed friend, slap him or her on the back, tell a funny story and maybe buy a round of drinks. Don’t bring the subject up at all. That’s it.

But life is good now. I have my own office for the first time in my life so my main worry now is whether or not I should drop ass or not. At first I was just letting them fly with wreckless abandon but one time my boss came barging in after I let a ripe one off like 7 minutes earlier so it was basically gone but there was still jjjjjjjjust a hint of sulfur left in the air.

At least in cubicles, you can blame the guy in the cubicle next to yours. With an office, you have no one to blame but yourself. It’s like breaking wind in an elevator. High risk but high reward. What’s a man to do?