When you're unemployed, the days just kind of run together. Monday feels like it comes every day. At the same time, I feel like treating every day like just another lazy Sunday. It gets harder and harder to wake up at a reasonable hour, ergo, it becomes more and more difficult to lie down and close my eyes at a decent hour. It's all a cycle. A vicious, painful, soul-crushing cycle...

So, we're now into my third week of being jobless, and I have, to date, done plenty, but I feel as though I could be doing much more. The resumes are sent out first thing, places are followed up with after that, all with the goal of getting an interview scheduled or, at the very least, pinning someone down to talk about what they're looking for. I've got a lot of irons in the fire, including a headhunter or two working on my side (thanks, Ma). But still, rejection begins to wear on you after just a couple of days, and getting something other than the standard reasoning is like pulling teeth from a watermelon. And, in most cases, you can absolutely forget about getting legitimate feedback about how you look to prospective employers.

Thankfully, I have been staying somewhat busy with tasks that go beyond the realm of 'job search'. These aren't things that I would normally relish doing, but they're different enough for me that they manage to clear my mind for a few hours at a time. I'm damn near finished building some sort of a trellis-like apparatus along the side of a friends mother's house. I haven't had clue one about what I've been doing, but apparently, buried somewhere deep inside, I have found the ability to feign an aptitude with regards to carpentry...even going so far as to correct my mistakes, on the few occasions where I have made them. The only thing that I feel remotely bad about with this project is the fact that I had estimated it would cost less than it has. Well, that and the fact that it has taken up a lot more of my time than I had anticipated, but that's worked to my favor, realistically.

I've had my low moments, to be sure. Moments where I was gripped by some hybrid of fear and apprehension – where the latter is coming from, I am unsure – as well as those where I have been riddled with guilt about the things that I have done that may or may not have contributed to landing me in the position in which I currently find myself. The thing of it is, though, this wasn't necessarily my doing...not all of it. Ultimately, I know I'll be okay, and that thought keeps me pushing forward...but, still, there is doubt in my mind about whether or not I'll recover this time.

My life is suddenly not at all on the right track...I just have to figure out how to get it back where it should be. You know, if it weren't for the odd mention of alcoholism and drug abuse, I'd say that I have begun to embody the protagonist of Against Me's “How Low”. At least I'll finally get to see them soon...alongside the greatness of the Trio, no less. Punk Rock! How low, indeed?