My quarterlife crisis started with a haircut.
Not a haircut of mine--- a haircut of Jenny’s.
Jenny went and got herself a hipster haircut which I did (and still kind of do) find super annoying. Because I hate hipsters. What’s not to hate about people who spend thousands of dollars of their parents’ money pretending to be poor? I am genuinely poor, and it is nowhere near as much fun as Urban Outfitters makes it look.
So, Jenny got her haircut, and I couldn’t stop being irritated by it. Then I couldn’t stop being irritated by her. Her hair. Her shoes. Her cardigans. It wasn’t even the cardigans so much as her incessant shopping for work clothes.
I cannot afford to shop, and I do not have a job. Which means that shopping for work clothes becomes a two-or-three hour exercise in “No, honey, REALLY, I promise you don’t look fat in those pants.” It is a precarious situation that many a significant other has found themselves in. I tried to avoid it.
Then I tried to avoid a lot of things. Going out to dinner. (Expensive.) Talking to my parents. (Do. Not. Want. More. Advice.) Going out of the house at all. (Again, expensive. It’s New York.) Theater friends. (All unemployed. Depressing.) Temp agencies. (Why must they treat me like a criminal?!?!) Explaining to Jenny why I was such a crab. (Pity is almost worse than advice.)
So here I am. I do not want to go out, and I do not want to stay in. I do not want to do another stupid theater production, and I do not want to take a regular day job. I do, however, want to move in with Jenny. This is happening, in approximately 6 weeks. Not only is this about to increase my living expenses by 250 dollars a month, I have never lived with a significant other before. I am excited, and I am also terrified.
It is a unique place to be in--- paralyzed by a combination of fear, burnout, and harsh economic reality. I have been unemployed for 7 months, which is not quite what I envisioned for myself when I went into theater professionally. I imagined being able to have some kind of day job, but now all the temp agencies are full of ex-Wall Streeters, and I have nothing but time on my hands.
I could do more shows, just to pass the time. But, what I am being offered does not pique my interest on artistic or financial levels.
I am scared of never getting another job. I am scared I will get a job and hate it. I am scared I will never go back into theater. I am scared I will be stuck in theater. I am scared of going broke. I am scared of disappointing Jenny. I am afraid that I have lost my drive and my creativity. I am afraid nothing is ever going to get better. I am afraid of making the wrong choices.
I don’t see anything getting better for a long time. I want to make it better, but this is the first time in a long time I have felt entirely helpless. I have applied for ten jobs a week for the last 7 months. And still no luck. I am trying as best I know how to be a responsible, productive member of society, but I keep getting shot down. I can’t get a job. The Christian Right has all kinds of organizations devoted to keeping me and sweet Jenny from getting married.
This is not what I was promised when I was a kid. I was supposed to be free to be anything I choose....but what about when they won’t let you wait tables or shine shoes??
Not a haircut of mine--- a haircut of Jenny’s.
Jenny went and got herself a hipster haircut which I did (and still kind of do) find super annoying. Because I hate hipsters. What’s not to hate about people who spend thousands of dollars of their parents’ money pretending to be poor? I am genuinely poor, and it is nowhere near as much fun as Urban Outfitters makes it look.
So, Jenny got her haircut, and I couldn’t stop being irritated by it. Then I couldn’t stop being irritated by her. Her hair. Her shoes. Her cardigans. It wasn’t even the cardigans so much as her incessant shopping for work clothes.
I cannot afford to shop, and I do not have a job. Which means that shopping for work clothes becomes a two-or-three hour exercise in “No, honey, REALLY, I promise you don’t look fat in those pants.” It is a precarious situation that many a significant other has found themselves in. I tried to avoid it.
Then I tried to avoid a lot of things. Going out to dinner. (Expensive.) Talking to my parents. (Do. Not. Want. More. Advice.) Going out of the house at all. (Again, expensive. It’s New York.) Theater friends. (All unemployed. Depressing.) Temp agencies. (Why must they treat me like a criminal?!?!) Explaining to Jenny why I was such a crab. (Pity is almost worse than advice.)
So here I am. I do not want to go out, and I do not want to stay in. I do not want to do another stupid theater production, and I do not want to take a regular day job. I do, however, want to move in with Jenny. This is happening, in approximately 6 weeks. Not only is this about to increase my living expenses by 250 dollars a month, I have never lived with a significant other before. I am excited, and I am also terrified.
It is a unique place to be in--- paralyzed by a combination of fear, burnout, and harsh economic reality. I have been unemployed for 7 months, which is not quite what I envisioned for myself when I went into theater professionally. I imagined being able to have some kind of day job, but now all the temp agencies are full of ex-Wall Streeters, and I have nothing but time on my hands.
I could do more shows, just to pass the time. But, what I am being offered does not pique my interest on artistic or financial levels.
I am scared of never getting another job. I am scared I will get a job and hate it. I am scared I will never go back into theater. I am scared I will be stuck in theater. I am scared of going broke. I am scared of disappointing Jenny. I am afraid that I have lost my drive and my creativity. I am afraid nothing is ever going to get better. I am afraid of making the wrong choices.
I don’t see anything getting better for a long time. I want to make it better, but this is the first time in a long time I have felt entirely helpless. I have applied for ten jobs a week for the last 7 months. And still no luck. I am trying as best I know how to be a responsible, productive member of society, but I keep getting shot down. I can’t get a job. The Christian Right has all kinds of organizations devoted to keeping me and sweet Jenny from getting married.
This is not what I was promised when I was a kid. I was supposed to be free to be anything I choose....but what about when they won’t let you wait tables or shine shoes??
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