What Did I Type in My Google Search This Morning?


Seriously, guess.

I typed, “what to do while unemployed.”

And I’m not even kidding. I know this sounds crazy and completely obvious, but it really isn’t. There are only so many jobs to apply for on Indeed.com and only so many shows to binge watch on Netflix. I’ve started trying to take up a new hobby (brush lettering a.k.a. modern calligraphy) and I’ve even read half of the Harry Potter series again. On top of that, I’ve also started doing yoga again, which in turn has made my muscles sore, which in turn has made me irritable.

There was an actual article on this subject that Bustle wrote. Now, I don’t know about you, but I love a good Bustle article, so of course I read it. But let me tell you something. That article told me to do all of the stuff that I’ve already done! So now I’m out of options.

I’m bored out of my effing mind. I have been making excuses to go buy groceries because I want to get out of the house. I never thought I’d get excited about going to Walmart, but the day has come, and it’s scary.

If you know me at all, you know that I generally hate people. But I especially hate the ones that get in my way at the grocery store. But regardless of my hatred for people who don’t stay in their lane in the deli aisle, still I return to the grocery store multiple times a week, just to have something to do and somewhere to go.

Maybe I should befriend toothless Terry at the checkout…

Anyway, his whole unemployment thing was cool for the first week or so when I had some interviews set up and I could sleep in and do whatever I wanted — but it’s been over a month now, and I’m getting cabin fever.

On top of still being unemployed, my internship has now run its course and I don’t even have that to keep me busy. It’s just me and my shitty calligraphy over here with no promise of any kind of future.

What’s worse is that I just realized I typed this entire thing in my night gown and slippers in my kitchen — in the complete dark.

So, if, after this post, you’re concerned (which would be totally fair) and haven’t heard from me in a while, it’s probably because the cabin fever has taken over and I have died a lonely, jobless, pathetic death wearing a stained pajama set — because what’s the point of removing the sriracha stain on your shirt if no one ever sees it?