employment

I found a job. Hopefully now I can ward off total insanity. I actually went to two interviews today. The first was at a staffing agency. I wasn't quite sure what I was getting into, and I became anxious and depressed when I realized that this place was like any other temp agency. I was overdressed. There was an instructive video playing on a plasma TV about the agencies policies. The people in the video looked professional and clean cut, like they were going places. The people in the waiting room looked sombre and down-trodden, as is appropriate, I suppose, in this economic climate. They lowered my spirits all the more. I was reminded of my days working at the Crayola warehouse. I felt all the more ill at ease in with my tie and sport coat when an application I was given to fill out included basic addition and subtraction problems.

But as luck with have it I will have nothing to do with said staffing agency, and I'll be working instead at the Allentown Brew Works, a popular bar/restaurant. I feel relieved that the miseries of unemployment no longer weigh me down, but saddened that the principal source of relief in my life is finding a job as a bus boy.

Déjà Brew

I work at this place called Déjà Brew in southside Bethlehem. The sandwiches have names like “The Big Kahuna Burger” and “Royale with Cheese.” Everything there is really clever and makes me want quit. Today I found out that this guy with piercings and died black hair who works there comes in during my shift just to hang out – before I thought he came to help us out. A nice of a guy as he is, I find it difficult to imagine why he would want to be there if he's not getting paid. I read a lot of Hunger during my shift. I wrote down on the back of an order slip the following lines: “I was just on the point of crying with grief over still being alive.” I was just on the brink of crying imagining endless days of unemployment sprinkled with shifts at Déjà Brew, which ought to forget the faux indie bull shit and just call itself South Side Sandwich Shop. The highlight of my day was when I teased a pretty blond for getting a Reuben sandwich without sauerkraut. It's nice to know I can still be my charming old self.

morning

The mornings are always a struggle. I don't need to set an alarm, because I don't have to be anywhere. I wake up and wonder what time it is. I don't feel rested, so I hope it's still early. Eventually, I consult my cell phone. I've been in bed almost nine hours. I'm unemployed, I tell myself, so there's no sense in worrying about getting up. But I have to get up at some point. How long can I stay there? What am I supposed to do once I'm up? The inner struggle continues. I'm neither enjoying the lazy pleasure of sleeping in, nor convincing myself that I should get up and start my day.

quotidien

I went to the gym today. I felt a surge of optimism. That feeling fades, quickly. One of the trainers was helping one of the front desk girls work out. They were joking around. On the way home I saw Jessie's parents sitting out on their porch. They are fun to talk to. This, and working out, constitute the highlights of my day. If I'm lucky, later on I'll talk with a friend on the phone and smoke a cigarette on the porch.

Hunger

I've been bad about keeping up with the blog. Times are tough. But the other day I heard from a friend that some of my articles for thought catalog are linked in important places. This inspired me anew to get back into writing. I wrote a good, long piece about my post-grad misery. I expect that should be published soon enough, if it's any good.

Yesterday I started to feel like I was going crazy because there's no one around to talk to other than my parents. Finally, I got a hold of my friend Jessie who goes to Kutztown, a nearby college. I drove out there. It was strange being there in a college town with people out and about smoking cigarettes and drinking.

When I got home I started reading Hunger by Knut Hamsun. The narrator is an unemployed guy who walks around the city trying to sell articles as he loses his mind. I wondered if this was a serendipitous choice of reading – after all, I'm unemployed and it does feel like I'm losing it half of the time, and I'm starting to write articles again that probably won't make any money. Not only that, but when I went to the library I meant to get out some detective fiction by Dashel Hammet, and Hunger was there right next to the Hammet, so I took that instead. More on this later, as I continue to read the book.

post-grad

I think I'm going to start blogging again. This is my attempt to start anew. Now I'm in the post-grad malaise phase of my life. It's good fun. My relationship with my girlfriend has been gradually ending for the past 6 weeks. I couldn't explain why because it doesn't completely make sense to me. Maybe it's because some weird psychological stuff I've been going through.

Last Tuesday at work I had a severe panic attack and went to the hospital. I canceled my plans to go to France. It was my second hospital visit this summer. During the first one I was happy and on morphine. This time I was panicked and crying and on no drugs. They gave me better sleeping pills, though.

Now I'm in Bethlehem, figuring shit out as they say. I have to go back to Northampton one more time and move out all my of stuff. It makes me uneasy to be there.

Hampshire's 40th Anniversary

When I was working at the circulation desk today at the Library, a young, elementary school-aged girl asked me where the children’s books were. It’s the 40th Anniversary Weekend at Hampshire College and lots of former students are around and some of them brought their kids. The girl was articulate, well-groomed, and polite. She made me think how at her age I never brushed my hair and acted sullen and didn’t talk very much. I wonder what that says about my parents, I thought. What is with young kids these days? They’re so cultivated, or something. Maybe my kids will be that way! There’s a thought. I was going up into the stacks, anyway, so I offered to show her the small children’s section. Later she came down and politely asked if she could take a book out just for a while. I asked her if she had any collateral, like some credit cards. I think she thought that was funny. Then, since I’m a nice guy, I checked it out on my account and told her to return it by tomorrow.

I realized that if she doesn’t return it, I’m going to be in a kind of Larry David-esque situation. I’ll have to call the girl’s mother (the former Hampshire student) and insist that her daughter has a book that I’m getting fined for. The kid might lie about it. My boss will get angry with me. It could be really awkward. I really hope she just brings it back tomorrow.