I'm entering the fifth month of unemployment and let me tell you, there's nothing that makes you question the existential juice of your being like sitting around, useless at home and feeling utterly unwanted.
Today, the heat seems to have let up a bit. The temperatures are in the cool late 30's rather than the 40+ infernos we've been having. I've decided, I'm going out a-wandering.
That usually means I'll catch a movie - something I haven't done in ages. Not only has my unemployment coincided with the debilitating heat, it's also faced the brunt of the fight between Bollywood producers and multiplex owners. So the last few weeks have been horribly movie-less. I plan to rectify that today by watching 'The Hangover'.
Then maybe I'll wander into a bookshop, as I often do. Much as I love these stores, I usually hate browsing. I like walking in, knowing exactly which titles I want. I no longer trust my instincts to pick up books that seem to look good, or authors that I've never heard of but 'sound' interesting. I'll also definitely pick up a bunch of magazines. Magazines are like my heroin. I need a fix every so often. Otherwise I begin to feel even more disconnected from the world. It's bad enough being stuck at home for months on end, I can't cope with not being clued in with what's happening outside.
Finally, instead of walking into a food store, I'll head for the DVD store. I'll browse through the new films and shop for a birthday present. I'll spend a good bit of time here because for some reason, unlike bookstores, I love browsing in a movie store.
I'll then take an auto and return home, glad for the outing.
Two of the last five months have been the toughest to get through. In the vacuum that unemployment creates, one really begins to ask those big questions - 'Is my life a compromise?', 'Did I choose the path of least resistance?', 'Am I not the prime mover in life?', 'Am I just going to wait for life to happen or will I get off my arse and get moving (towards what...)?'
And the worst - Am I living life to the maximum of my potential?
These are scary, scary things to ponder on; especially since every second spent pondering means one second less doing. Not like there isn't stuff that can be done.
Then there is the heart that seems awfully sure of what it enjoys doing and what it does not enjoy doing. I remain steadfastly in its corner, I keep siding with it, believing in it and enduring crippling joblessness to sustain its integrity.
But now and again I wonder, is it just me making excuses in order to maintain a comfortable state of inertia?...