Being unemployed is a bit like going through a second puberty — it’s awkward, all of your friends are going through it at different times, and you constantly feel like you’re on the precipice of an emotional breakdown. I’ve been “between jobs” for 4 months now and have noticed very distinct emotional phases that have occurred throughout the job hunt.

1. Idealistic Phase

You just left a job you didn’t really like that much and suddenly you feel like your dreams are attainable. “I knew I was meant for more than [insert former entry level job title here]!” Your days are filled with iced coffees, vision boards, and meeting up with friends to discuss your future. You haven’t applied to anything yet and therefore you haven’t been rejected. You do a quick scan of job openings and you’re feeling pumped. You have a year of experience so it shouldn’t be that hard to find a job...right!? “Take a week off, girl, you deserve it,” you tell yourself.

2. Questioning Your Standards

It’s been almost 2 months and you haven’t gotten quite as much traction as you thought. You’re now questioning if you set your sights too high and are toying with the idea of dramatically lowering them. You’re beginning to feel panicked. Suddenly you find yourself spending less time on Indeed and LinkedIn, and more time on Craigslist searching for part-time work. You’re applying for things that seem moderately sketchy, but anything seems better than no job at this point.

Here are a few Craigslist Job Postings I Found while I was going through this Phase:

1. can you baby sit an adult baby
2. Looking for a funky girl for a short video
3. Painter wanted for nude portrait
4. Seeking college girl lunch companion
5. Handsome firefighter looking for weekly massages, no experience needed

3. Total Freak Out

You’ve reached out to every friend, friend’s friend, and great aunt that you could find on LinkedIn, Facebook, and Ancestry.com. Now you’re starting to think maybe you just weren’t meant for the working world. “Maybe this is a sign,” you tell yourself. You start drinking a wee bit more to blow off steam; the occasional Coors Light is no longer cutting it for you.

To save money, you rarely leave the apartment and consume a diet mainly of canned ravioli and eggs (not together, don’t worry). You have far fewer face-to-face interactions than your working friends, so every conversation means a lot to you. If someone gives you helpful advice, you view it as though they are attacking you personally and analyze it for hours on end.

Example: Karin thinks I should make different resumes for the different jobs I’m applying to!? I can’t believe she had the nerve to say that to my face!

Netflix becomes your major hobby and you find yourself re-watching Friends episodes because the laugh track comforts you and it’s nice to feel less lonely. You also begin going to desperate, unnecessary means to save money because you’re convinced you many never work again (games like I-wonder-how-long-I-can-go-without-buying-a-new-razor become oddly satisfying).

4. Borderline Concerning Self-Deprecating Humor

You’ve been jobless for somewhere around 3–4 months. Things are looking bleak but you’ve gotten comfortable in said bleakness. Your humor takes a decidedly more depressing, introspective turn. Some of your friends seem concerned by how self-deprecating your jokes have become.

The Scenario → Your phone rings at a party

Friend: “Hey girl! Your phone’s ringing.”

You: “Oh, it’s probably an important work call… Oh wait, I don’t have a job.”

Friend: Looks at you with a concerned expression, laughs to make the situation less awkward, and then slowly walks away to talk someone who is less of a buzz kill.

5. Relief?

I assume it’s a very cathartic moment when you finally get a job. I can only speak hypothetically though as I’m still in the midst of Phase 4. I imagine getting a job will be filled with a lot of happy tears, humble braggy Facebook posts, and thank yous to all of the great aunts who helped you get there.

One week into the new job you’ll forget all about this weird, puberty-like time in your life, and look disapprovingly at those unemployed youths who can’t get it together.

But don’t get too cocky.

It won’t be long before things go differently than planned and you once again find yourself on the this awkward unemployment pilgrimage. And when that time comes, I have two pieces of advice: drink up and buy a new goddamn razor. I don’t care how long you think it’ll take you to get a job, you can afford it.