Alright, at the behest of some friends and acquaintances, I've decided to commit to the annals of history (or Blogger) my experiences on "the dole" (that's unemployment to you non-Brits, but having a nickname for it is so much fun). Let's get the nitty gritty nonsense out of the way.
I was laid off on Wednesday, January 13, 2010. I worked at a health-related non-profit organization in their Connecticut office for just under two years as a paid employee. My hire date was February 20, 2008, but I was an intern there before that. I can't say I'm not a little annoyed they didn't give me two full years of employment, but whatever.
I can't say I'm crushed. I hated my job. I was good at it, but I was apparently a sickening over-cost. At $34,5000 a year, I'm sure my salary was really bustin' the ol' bank. Yeah, that's what I made. You can send me donations and condolences if you'd like.
So they out-sourced my job, and my boss's. She retired. The same day I was laid off. (You can give that one the side-eye, it deserves it.)
This leaves me, at 25, unemployed, single, and living with my parents. I am so fucking kick-ass, even I can't stand my awesomeness sometimes. I'm polishing my resumé, staring at collecting unemployment, and trying desperately to decide what I want to do and where I want to do it. I have a seriously hard-core degree, and I should be exploiting that, but if whatever I do leaves me staring at a computer monitor (I recognize the irony of that sentiment as I sit here "blogging"), cooped up in a windowless cell again, I'll probably drop off the radar completely and move to Kuala Lumpur, or Bucharest, or some other far-flung locale that has an uneven distribution of consonants to vowels in its name.
This is a chronicle of my job search, my soul search (I do have a soul, Sam gave it back to me for my 25th birthday. It's in my wallet. Ask me to see it!), and all the other things I do to fill my days.
Photo courtesy of Danny Choo
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