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Funemployment

I have recently become unemployed. This is something very new to me. Unemployment and I do not go together. I was working for an advertising network for about 7 months; I was the girl that was attached to her blackberry, worked late hours, and even worked from home on evenings and weekends. I personally thought things were going well, until the president of the company dropped the bomb on me and said he had to let me go due to company lay-offs. I held myself together, refrained from tearing up, and stuffed as much of my crap as I could into an old shopping bag. I think the worst part about the entire situation was the fact that I had to pack up my things as the president of the company pretended not to watch me while he “worked” on his iPhone.

When I lost my job, I became angry. I felt that I worked too hard to be the one who was let go. I did nothing but work my tail off for that company and what did I get in return? Nothing but a shopping bag filled with office supplies. My anger soon turned into the realization that I am a confident, hardworking individual, who was a great asset to the company. Bitch mode translation: they will regret their decision.

Anyhow, I now live the life of what I like to call funemployment. I am lucky to have a couple of girlfriends who got the boot as well, so the three of us united as a team of determined, young professionals who spend several hours a day working on our computers, editing our resumes, applying to jobs, networking, and, of course, stalking on Facebook.

Although this funemployment situation has only been going on for a little over a week, I feel like it is a blessing in disguise. I have never been more organized; I have a huge to-do list hanging on my fridge. Yes, on my fridge… can you say nerd alert? I have a specific daily routine that I do every single day; I wake up every morning at 8am, work out, cook all of my own healthy meals and I have more time to write and blog. Can this situation get any worse? I always said if I become unemployed I would have a hot body, so I’m going for it by working out 5 days a week.

It took me a while to finally come to terms with my unemployment, but I am taking advantage of it. Confession: I have not come to terms with losing my mayorship on foursquare that I held for 4 consecutive months. Whatever.

So, what have I been up to besides networking the crap out of myself? I bought a crock-pot last weekend, and I can’t wait to use it and cook yummy meals for my friends. I have time to bake and send a care package to my siblings who are studying for finals. I want to go rock climbing. I want to explore the city and find unique streets and restaurants that I used to not have time to find. I also want to see that new movie Love and Other Drugs, how cute?

All and all, this unemployment situation really isn’t as bad as I thought. I am not unemployed; I am funemployed (with a little bit of work in between).

What animal am I?

Job interviews terrify me. Especially interviews for jobs that I really, really want, like the one coming up in a few weeks. I haven’t gone on an interview in over a year, and I’ve certainly never interviewed for a job of this caliber before. I think a little nervousness is probably a good thing: keeps me sharp and motivated to do well. Preparation is difficult.

I’ve always heard horror stories about interviewing at bigger law firms. A group of attorneys stare you down and grill you on your transcript, why you took the classes you did, why you got an A- instead of an A. They question you on your writing sample in the minutest details. They ask insane questions like, “If you were a tree, what sort of tree would you be and why?”

I don’t know if there is a right answer to the tree question. I’m sure everybody wants a tough tree, but should it have deep roots, like an oak? Quickly regrow after being chopped down like bamboo? Survive harsh conditions like a cactus? Is a cactus even a tree?

Bend in the wind but not break like a palm tree? Drop coconuts on heads like a palm tree? Never stop growing like a white pine? Multi-task like an olive tree that produces olives, wood, and olive oil? Be sticky and sweet like a maple? Hold all sorts of things together like a mangrove? Think outside the box and be a shrubbery? That looks nice and isn’t too expensive? Ugh.

Worse than the tree question is the animal question. It’s so cliché to be a lion or wolf. Everybody wants to be king of the jungle, right? Forget it. If I have to be an animal, I want to be a giant squid. I could crush a submarine. Although I have it on pretty good authority that giant squids in real life don’t actually crush submarines; they only do in Jules Verne.

All I know is that I am not a pack animal. I hate group projects. This isn’t the sort of thing to trumpet on a job interview.

My husband suggested a rhinoceros. I wondered if he was calling me fat. No, he assured me, he meant that when it has work to do, a rhino just puts its head down and powers through. “AND GORES PEOPLE IN THE STOMACH!” I exclaimed. Which was not what he was going for.

His next suggestion was even more useless. “Be a black mamba. Small but deadly!”

Sure, honey, and then my interviewer will just think I spent too much time watching Kill Bill and not enough time imagining what animal I should be. And now the little tune Daryl Hannah whistles is stuck in my head.

I could be a dinosaur! Triceratops. Same reasoning as the rhino, but way cooler. Except now scientists are saying triceratops might not have been real. Wanting to be a triceratops is analogous to answering a question about which planet I’d be with Pluto- kids like it, it’s a sentimental favorite, but it lost its license to be a planet. THAT won’t get me a law job.

I think I’ll stick with a giant squid. A Jules Verne sub-crushing giant squid. If that doesn’t get me hired, I don’t know what will.

Three years

Three years ago, a new mom sat on her couch, typing away at a laptop. She could barely keep her eyes open, as her two month old still woke up every two hours to eat. But, now, thankfully, her newborn was fast asleep in his cradle swing, pumped with so much milk, he could’ve floated away to Aruba. She keeps herself plied with cups and cups of chocolate roast coffee. She has to, she’s writing her second book. Her first one hasn’t sold yet, and she won’t admit it, but she still desperately believes in it. Yet, she forges ahead, knowing that the only thing she can control is her own output. She loves her new book and can’t wait to finish it.

Today, a mom with a preschooler sits on her couch, typing on a laptop. Exhausted from chasing her three-year-old around during the day, she’s grateful that her son sleeps for twelve hours at night, and that he’s at preschool for the next two hours. She keeps herself plied with Diet Coke, herbal tea and Dunkin’ Donuts coffee—none of the flavored stuff, thanks—that’s for amateurs. She has to stay alert, she’s writing her fourth book. Her first three sold. Two have been released already and she’s waiting for the cover on the third. She’s not sure yet if she’ll be able to continue writing full-time for the near future. Yet, she forges ahead, knowing that the only thing she can control is her own words. She loves her new book and can’t wait to finish it.

From then to now, autumn is still alternately hot and humid and cold and rainy; the leaves still change. My son still makes me want to inject coffee directly into my veins, but he also makes me laugh at the most unexpected moments. Book publishing is still a scary world, plagued with much uncertainty.

But most importantly, what hasn’t changed is my will to write books, and my knowledge that I was meant to do this.

So I sit here, in front of my laptop and push out words. And every now and then, I swear I can still smell chocolate roast coffee.

Visit Maureen’s personal site here.

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