Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Fear and Loathing

Olympia, WA - There have been two distinct periods in my unemployment (Dec. 12 - present) when my general feeling could be summed up with a would-be book title. It started in mid-January, after the holidays and the departure of my college companions, when the full-bodied shame of not being given compensation first hit acutely, and then reared its ugly head again this past week after I had successfully squelched it before the turn of the month.

The working title, of course, is Fear and Loathing: On the Unemployment Trail '09.

Today, for instance, I waked up at 11:30, baked up at 11:35, washed my face, put on clothes, hopped on my bike and headed into town. Once there, I took out some money from the bank.

The actual bank, not that ATM, since I lost my card in the BECU cash machine at the Olympia Co-Op last week. Some four times prior to my mistake, I had witnessed high and/or absent-minded hippie types almost forget to pick up their cards, only to be bailed out by the person standing in line behind them. And with this sort that I speak of, there would invariably be someone standing behind him because, stoned hippie-type that he is, this generic fellow likely took some five minutes to use the machine.

I, however, used the box quickly and rushed away irresponsibly. How fitting.

Upon leaving the bank I walked over to Cafe Vitta, ordered a coffee, an orange and dark chocolate-covered graham cracker, delicious all around, and proceeded to be too paralyzed with fear and self-loathing to actually get the things done that I wanted to get done.

All that I wrote was trite, a comment I'm sure has been said about me before and won't stop now.

Still, the painful self-awareness was heavy on my shoulders.


Now here I am with a temporary paid gig to assuage my worries, but still a little bit of the title remains.

On the front that dictates the rest of life, its funny how each random time I see a smiling girl who talks cheerily enough, I get the sparkle in my brain that I might believe in love again some time.

It fades, but still it creeps.

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