Tuesday, January 6, 2015

What The Comedian Has Learned About Being Unemployed

Sleeping in stops being great after about a week. 
After a few years getting up at WHAT THE FUCK TIME IS THIS EVEN??????, I thought a silver lining from losing my job would be finally getting to sleep in. And it was amazing. For roughly a week. Now, if I sleep past eight o'clock, I feel like a disgusting pigperson coated in slime. My hair looks like someone put a cherry bomb in a bird's nest, and the inside of my mouth tastes like the outside of a turd. And probably also the inside of a turd. I can't imagine the taste of a turd changes much from one layer to the next.

TV is 95% crap
So. Much. Crap. I swear to god, there was more on TV when I was a kid and we had three channels and none of them would come in at the same time, so if we wanted to watch something else, we had to go outside and turn a giant frigging antenna that was on a two-storey-high post driven into the ground beside the house. BY HAND. And if it froze in the winter, you had to hit it with a hammer. WHEN I WAS A CHILD, CHANGING THE CHANNEL ON THE TV SOMETIMES INVOLVED A HAMMER. And yet, there was more on TV then than there is now.

Laundry is a pretty easy thing to forget
Now that I don't have to get dressed and leave my house every day, I have much less laundry to do. You'd think this would be a good thing. Wrong, shithead. Turns out that hardly ever having to do laundry has more or less deleted that particular chore from my brain. I have un-learned that doing laundry is a thing. Mostly I had been wearing pyjamas, and then forgot to wash all those pyjamas, so right now I mainly wear towels. I have lots of towels, so this should work for a few more weeks. Then I guess I'll have to start making sure the blinds are always closed.

College is stupid
Let me clarify: getting an education is not stupid. Getting an education that basically limits you to one job is kind of stupid. Getting an education that basically limits you to one job that is on the verge of going extinct is the educational equivalent of putting something that's on fire in your eyeholes: you shouldn't. You shouldn't do that.

Being good at something doesn't mean shit
So, you're pretty good at burping the alphabet? Awesome! You should do that for a living!

Uh-oh -- someone just bought the alphabet. But they're a big company, so they probably have lots of money backing them, and they can make the alphabet even BIGGER and BETTER! And they've been working in alphabet-related stuff for a while, so they must know what they're doing. You're going to burp the alphabet for a long time and will be ever so successful!

Doublefuck -- an even BIGGER company just bought the alphabet. But don't worry -- you'll be fine. I mean, yeah.....they didn't really own many alphabets before, but surely they made the buy because they appreciate what alphabets can do. And they will definitely appreciate your talent at alphabet-burping. Because you're good at it. Everyone tells you so. And being good at something matters.

It really doesn't.

You think you know how angry you are capable of getting. You are wrong.
It has been brought to my attention in the past that my ability to express the range of human emotions is as follows:

Level One: "Everything's fine, nothing to get excited about, it's all good."


Turns out there is a third level. I call that level IUHIEUXFH&^$%)(&YJW(*RKIWH.

IUHIEUXFH&^$%)(&YJW(*RKIWH happens when words completely go away. It's exactly like when you're mad and stomping around and making random noises, but with 87% more rage, and the complete loss of any ability to think in words. IUHIEUXFH&^$%)(&YJW(*RKIWH can last for up to three days, and can make you kick stuff that you have to really go out of your way to kick. Things that are nowhere near foot-level. During one bout of IUHIEUXFH&^$%)(&YJW(*RKIWH, I kicked a plant. I had to take it down off a shelf and put it on the floor to do it, but I kicked that fucking plant. I kicked it right in the head. AND NOW THAT PLANT KNOWS WHO IS THE BOSS.

Over the last couple of months, bouts of IUHIEUXFH&^$%)(&YJW(*RKIWH have been brought on by the following, in no particular order:

- my dog staring at me
- some snow that got inside my shoe
- a mascara commercial
- the existence of that Australian country singer Nicole Kidman is married to
- not enough water being in my coffee maker
- my list of People Who Need to be Punched, with absolutely none of the names crossed off yet
- ants

Most of the time I am relatively un-mad. I've managed to stay closer to the "Everything's fine, nothing to get excited about, it's all good" state of being since losing my job, with the occasional trip to "I HATE EVERYTHING EVEN PURPLE BABY MINIATURE UNICORNS AND CHOCOLATE" territory. But every once in a while, I get struck with a good dose of IUHIEUXFH&^$%)(&YJW(*RKIWH. And apparently then I have to kick the shit out of a plant.

Some people are very awesome. Other people are the human equivalent of that time you stepped in shit and couldn't get all the shit out of the tread of your shoe even if you dug at it with a stick and blasted it with a power-washer.
Then you're always stuck with a bit of shit-smell whenever you wear those shoes in your car and turn the heat on near your feet. But then you drive to see one of the awesome people, and you forget about the shit smell for a while.

Then you get a better job, and buy some new shoes.


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