Lady of Leisure
5 Things About Being Unemployed
1. The Reason.
Friday was my last day at Music Choice. Ever. Amazing to say that after almost seven years. I recently decided that it was time to move on, and then, half way through my three-month notice period I had a brainwave, like a neon sign flashing so close to my face that I hadn’t spotted it. Don’t get a new job – go to South America instead! Well, I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before, and I’m now planning on heading off in a couple of months, or as soon as I buy my ticket, let my flat and generally do all the organisation that is required. In the meantime, and until I can sort some temp work, I am unemployed.
2. Not alone.
Lizzie and Podmeister came to meet me on my last day to congratulate me on joining their club. Of course, our circumstances aren’t quite the same, but we nonetheless nicknamed ourselves “Les trois sans emploi”. It sounds more glamorous, somehow, in French. Since then I have realised that I have one more cousin, one ex and several million friends who are also in ‘alternative’ states of employment. Which made me feel better about the whole thing. Temporarily.
3. Feeling strange.
I am struggling a little. Not panicking about the mortgage just yet, but I’m finding the total lack of structure quite hard to deal with. The idea when I get up in the morning that no one else is making any demands on my time, and it’s all entirely up to me. Amazingly, I’ve been up at 8.30 every day, and not slept in until 12, but I do spend quite a lot of time worrying that I really ought to be focussing on something else. Typical Virgo trait possibly?
4. What now?
I am looking for work. This week I’ve been focussing on things that are relevant to my experience and I’ve been harassing the PR and marketing agencies for something. Lots of ‘conversations’ have been happening, but no joy as yet. However, I do have a meeting at Weber Shandwick next week, and I might have my first freelance copywriting commission, which is great news if it works out.
5. Killing Time
I've spent this week drinking a lot, basically (she writes, with glass of red lurking temptingly inches away).
I’ve decided that, no matter how many important productive things I have to do (like painting the living room, applying for jobs and booking a flight – some of which I have done), I ought to get out of the house to meet someone at least once a day otherwise I will go insane. So far this week I have:
Enjoyed a very chilled out afternoon and two bottles of rose with Princess Em. We fell asleep on the sofa watching The Princess Bride; then I cut her hair and gave her a whole new look.
My very good friend Mattyo stopped in London on Tuesday evening en route to Norway. He came round for some M&S lasagne and a bottle of red. We realised we have been friends for nearly twenty years. Scary thought, that.
Cousin Izzer took me to lunch on Wednesday. Lovely lady. We had great chats about behaviourism, cyborgs and whether or not I am a slapper (we agreed definitely not).
Yesterday Paul took me for a gorgeous dinner at The Upstairs Bar and then came back here for MORE wine.
Today, I was supposed to be having lunch with Andrew, but surprise, surprise, he changed his plans and still hasn't let me know whether he's coming over. Chuh. Why do I bother?
Right, time to drink some more red wine and decide whether I am officially allowed the rest of Friday evening off from worrying.
1. The Reason.
Friday was my last day at Music Choice. Ever. Amazing to say that after almost seven years. I recently decided that it was time to move on, and then, half way through my three-month notice period I had a brainwave, like a neon sign flashing so close to my face that I hadn’t spotted it. Don’t get a new job – go to South America instead! Well, I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before, and I’m now planning on heading off in a couple of months, or as soon as I buy my ticket, let my flat and generally do all the organisation that is required. In the meantime, and until I can sort some temp work, I am unemployed.
2. Not alone.
Lizzie and Podmeister came to meet me on my last day to congratulate me on joining their club. Of course, our circumstances aren’t quite the same, but we nonetheless nicknamed ourselves “Les trois sans emploi”. It sounds more glamorous, somehow, in French. Since then I have realised that I have one more cousin, one ex and several million friends who are also in ‘alternative’ states of employment. Which made me feel better about the whole thing. Temporarily.
3. Feeling strange.
I am struggling a little. Not panicking about the mortgage just yet, but I’m finding the total lack of structure quite hard to deal with. The idea when I get up in the morning that no one else is making any demands on my time, and it’s all entirely up to me. Amazingly, I’ve been up at 8.30 every day, and not slept in until 12, but I do spend quite a lot of time worrying that I really ought to be focussing on something else. Typical Virgo trait possibly?
4. What now?
I am looking for work. This week I’ve been focussing on things that are relevant to my experience and I’ve been harassing the PR and marketing agencies for something. Lots of ‘conversations’ have been happening, but no joy as yet. However, I do have a meeting at Weber Shandwick next week, and I might have my first freelance copywriting commission, which is great news if it works out.
5. Killing Time
I've spent this week drinking a lot, basically (she writes, with glass of red lurking temptingly inches away).
I’ve decided that, no matter how many important productive things I have to do (like painting the living room, applying for jobs and booking a flight – some of which I have done), I ought to get out of the house to meet someone at least once a day otherwise I will go insane. So far this week I have:
Enjoyed a very chilled out afternoon and two bottles of rose with Princess Em. We fell asleep on the sofa watching The Princess Bride; then I cut her hair and gave her a whole new look.
My very good friend Mattyo stopped in London on Tuesday evening en route to Norway. He came round for some M&S lasagne and a bottle of red. We realised we have been friends for nearly twenty years. Scary thought, that.
Cousin Izzer took me to lunch on Wednesday. Lovely lady. We had great chats about behaviourism, cyborgs and whether or not I am a slapper (we agreed definitely not).
Yesterday Paul took me for a gorgeous dinner at The Upstairs Bar and then came back here for MORE wine.
Today, I was supposed to be having lunch with Andrew, but surprise, surprise, he changed his plans and still hasn't let me know whether he's coming over. Chuh. Why do I bother?
Right, time to drink some more red wine and decide whether I am officially allowed the rest of Friday evening off from worrying.
posted by Becky @ 8:26 pm
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