Under My Bed

Navigating unemployment can leave me feeling devoid of imagination, low on verve, and a good deal more vulnerable to an apocalyptic vision of the future than is tolerable. During these low moods, my inclination is to crawl under my bed, curl into a sobbing ball of frail humanity, and pray for sleep. I can be going along with a good head of steam, sending in applications, networking, picking up small contracts here and there, and suddenly get sideswiped by an offhand remark that throws the whole exercise into a turbulent sea of cold, wet doubt.

Just yesterday I was talking with an acquaintance about her insights on a job I’ve applied for with her organization. In the middle of the conversation she asked, “What have you been doing lately?” When I told her that I’d been unemployed and looking for work for seven months, she replied, “Well, that’s not going to look good.” BAM!

I was stunned. Her thoughtless, dismissive comment gave voice to the wrong-headed but commonly accepted assumption that merely by being unemployed, I am suspect of having been lazy or willfully unproductive. I quickly had to accept that although thoughtless, her assumption about how it would be perceived is nevertheless true. Long periods of unemployment don’t “look good.” Even in this economy, even with so many people struggling, I’m certain that the taint of the struggle, the taint of “failure” is another goddamned brick in the wall.

The only productive response to this is to crawl out from under my bed, shake my fist a few times in righteous indignation, howl at the moon a bit and push forward. It’s not as if I’m lolling in bed (well, sometimes I’m under the bed, but there is no lolling involved), chomping on bon bons and waiting to be taken care of. I’ve been pounding the virtual pavement for months.

A couple of weeks ago I started compiling a detailed list of all of the jobs I’ve applied for over the last several months and the responses I’ve received. I lost heart when I realized I’d applied to close to fifty jobs and gotten less than eight responses. I would be grateful if someone “in the know” could help me determine what I should glean from this. I’ve worked for thirty years developing skills, putting in the time, and doing my best. So, no longer at the beginning of my career, do I conclude that it’s all come to nought? Is this rough patch somehow more significant than the years spent “making something of myself?”

Enough howling, now is the time to push forward. In the end it’s all about perceptions: what we see, how we judge it, what we celebrate and what we condemn. We’re all struggling animals trying to make our way in a world we cannot control, or truly understand. And one person’s perception, even if it gives voice to a codified collective vision, is still just a perception and in time, will likely show its flaws.

Meanwhile there is a dust bunny with my name on it.