I am impatiently waiting to hear back from York University, who interviewed me for a temporary position in the university bookstore, and who said that they would call me at the end of this week. This is anything but a definite time so I am trying to stay cheerful but panic, inevitably, is taking hold. If I don't get this job, I haven't the foggiest idea of what I'm going to do.
What pisses me off the most of it is that everything I want to do with my life, just about everything, has to be placed on hold until I get a regular paycheque. Hopefully, unlike my past job, it would actually impact my savings. If I do not hear back from them by two o'clock tomorrow I'm calling them and requesting an answer. I have been given the silent treatment so many times over the past two years I will not accept it anymore.
What makes me anxious the most is that my lack of money is cutting into my ability to live my life.
A happy life is a proactive one. I have never been a daredevil, or someone who just casts his anxieties to the wind and pushes forward boldly, but I have never been completley inhibited either. In fact, the past five years, while having their ups and downs, have been mostly positive for me. When it was not positive it was sheer tortute, and I am trying, so far without success, to dig myself out of the latest trough. I have not let unemployment interfere with my life, but I have been unemployed for so long that if I do not find a job soon it is going to get highly problematic.
My previous post was about my fears about death and any existence thereafter. Really, the only guarantee of freedom from fear of death is a well lived life.
If you truly have lived you don't need to fear permanent unconsciousness. Anything coming after life, that's just gravy. There are people I wish to emulate because I believe that they are living their lives to the fullest, and I want to follow their example.
I have anxieties, even in the best of times, that I have not lived enough. I have never been an extraverted, outgoing person. But I don't consider myself deprived: I've been to London, Paris and New York; I have gone SCUBA diving (I haven't certified yet, in the same way you don't always pass your driver's test the first time); I've performed volunteer service I am proud of; I've been to Worldcon; I've lived in a city other than the one I was born in; I've met favourite authors; and I probably could keep going on. You could credibly say that I am proud of my accomplishments---and I am. I want to do more.
I'm insatiable; I am a perfectionist who wishes that his zeal for perfection would trickled down into his life. Lacking money drives me crazy, though lately I have made peace with my poverty. The worst thing about being unemployed? You get used to it.
Even if I did have the money I need I would drive myself crazy since I am very careful with my money to a fault. More or less, more than most people, I think. Once I get a steady paycheque I can relax a bit about spending, since I have never been loose with my money. I really should relax about money though not having any is a major problem.
Socrates said the unexamined life is not worth living. I have the opposite problem: I've examined my life, know what I want to do, and I'm almost frantic at making my life the best it could be, and the world seems to be sadistically blockading my path. I am happy pretty much with myself and my accomplishments and want to further my life and my goals. Unfortunately my life has other plans.
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