I’ve missed most of the Olympics. When I tell people this they are surprised. I just say that I keep forgetting about them, but that’s not the truth. The truth is I am in current events denial and eschew the Olympics as a form of self-preservation.
Long about July or so, I stopped watching the TV news. All the economic doom and gloom was causing anxiety attacks. As Labor Day grows ever closer the anxiety has increased and I’ve given up most all network TV-watching lest some sort of news sneak in when I’m not paying attention. This leaves me with “A Different World” reruns and not much else. I still tip-toe around online news sources, and they’re about to get the boot too — but that has more to do with the impending Republican National Convention than anything else.
Oh fuck it. I can’t even craft a coherent narrative. I’m anxious and scared and that’s making me cranky. So cranky that I’ve taken to calling myself Captain Crank. Today has been a rough day. The mean reds have swept in and set up camp here at Supergenius HQ.
Way back in March when I lost my job I decided that I’d be working by Labor Day. I didn’t need to worry until Labor Day. I could take the summer off and be okay as long as I was pulling a paycheck by Labor Day.
Labor Day is upon us and I don’t have a job. I don’t even have any prospects. Hell, it seems that I can’t even get any callbacks anymore. It is terrifying.
But what’s more terrifying is my inability to make a damn decision. I am standing very firmly at the proverbial crossroads and my indecision has left me frozen and fearful. I simply don’t know what I want to do. And, if one more person asks me what I want to do I am going to punch them in the neck.
I keep saying that if I knew what I wanted to do then I’d go do it. But am I just using my indecision to not do anything? And more than that, what is a job anyway. I keep telling myself that I need to redefine what I think having a job means. I’ve said that what I really want to do is cobble together a living writing various things for different people who are willing to give me money to do it.
Yet there’s that nagging doubt. The worry that maybe I’m not good enough to do that, or that there will be no money coming in and then I’ll have to go work at SuperAmerica and Supergenius HQ will get forclosed on and then I’ll live in my parents’ den and turn 40 and then need to shove my head in an oven.
I just don’t know what to do and I can’t seem to work through this or get past it or, well, fucking do anything at all besides lay in my bed reading short stories and intermittently crying.