Unemployment Woes

4 days after a long heartfelt Facebook status was posted on my wall, stated I was leaving my Prohibition Tour job, I was called into the conference room of my desk job and was offered severance pay. Perfect timing.

I took the evening to cry on the phone with my mom and lament my theater degree. I wallowed. I ate an entire container of chocolate peanut butter.

I woke up the next day, walked into my office, took the money and walked out.

That was a week ago.

My first week of partial unemployment (the tour took me back with open arms, thank god) felt good. I got a craft project done I'd been wanting to do for months, I did my taxes, I got laid. I was doing well.

But yesterday my depression took over for the night after my sketch show. The feeling of worthlessness took hold of me. Suicide in the corner of my brain, I faded into a hopeless sleep.

I woke up today feeling better but not the best I had been before losing my job. I decided cleaning would be a productive thing to do. I started doing just that. While my Swiffer furiously scanned my room, I found 3 boxes under my bed I had forgotten.

One was my break up box full of stuff from my exes, which I keep telling myself I will burn one day but never do. One was my positive notes/pictures box that I made when I was going through my first break up to remind myself that he was not the only love I had. The last one was a box of letters that have been mailed to me from my various friends and pen pals I made when my positive notes box was getting full.

6 years of letters, photos, cards, and random knick knacks laid on my bed as I cried. I was surrounded by paper representations of the love of my friends, family and even exes that don't love me anymore. How lucky am I that the boxes were so full they were breaking at the seams? How lucky am I that I mean enough to people for them to put pen to paper, find a stamp, and place a piece of themselves in a mailbox for me? How lucky am I?

I will probably get fireproof boxes for 2 out of 3 of these boxes. I will keep these with me no matter what city, state or country I live in. I will refer to them in times of self-doubt, depression and even when I want my joy to multiple.

If you have written me any letter, note, or postcard in the last 6 years, it is still with me. Thank you for pulling me out of the depths of my depression even if it has been years since you wrote or sent it. Thank you so much. I don't have a Valentine this year but I have something even better. I have a sense of love and belonging thanks to you. I hope I've returned the favor.

Thanks for listening. Come back for more.