Def. Funemployment (n): A time in Amanda’s life that would be all of the fun if she didn’t have to watch how much money she spends, had friends, and wasn’t a temporary housewife. She gets to sleep in though. 10/10 gets great sleep.
I left my wonderful job four weeks ago today.
I left my wonderful friends.
I left my amazing family.
I left the only place I’ve ever called home.
Here’s the kicker. I left all these things for a boy. It would be tragic, but he’s probably the only person I would’ve done this for… done this with. Now I’ve just made it corny and semi barf-worthy.
This weekend we’re moving to a different apartment one block over (MAJOR EYE-ROLL). Living somewhere in Chicago with a dishwasher, washer/dryer, and garbage disposal all wrapped into one apartment is a GD* miracle. Throw a storage unit in the mix and we’ve basically stumbled upon a renter’s paradise.
(* short-hand for gottdamn)
After finding this new apartment for us, I’ve done a whole lot of not much for 2 weeks. By not much I mean I’ve been a “Funemployment Wife”. Cook. Clean. Grocery store. Laundry. Day drank once (yesterday), all that was really missing were some fake boobs and some white-mom drugs, like xanax or valium.
The term “Funemployment” could not be a more perfect, sarcastic term for this purgatory I’m living in.
I want a job so bad. But it’s also kind of nice to be able to just do whatever I want, given that it doesn’t cost any money and given that I’ve completed all of my “duties” as a funemployment wife.
There’s such a strange dichotemy going on in my life that I’ve never experienced until now. I spend so much time doing things I’m used to; working on my website, art work, or applying for jobs . What’s different is now when I’m doing these things I’m also , wondering if maybe the laundry is done, or thinking of what to make for dinner. I’ve managed to not make anything twice yet but I’m quickly running out of ideas.
I have a weird pressure of perfectionism which I’ve never felt before. I shrunk one of my boyfriend’s shirts this week and I’ve never felt so incapable in my life. I was making salmon paninis the other night and burned the bread… I was so close to tossing it into the trash like the Spartans did with babies who didn’t meet their criteria for living. THE PANINI WAS NOT WORTHY! I made pasta that just didn’t have a full enough flavor. I spent the entirety of dinner with strange look on my face trying to place what it was missing. My boyfriend was concerned.
I’ve realized this week I am not meant to be a housewife and that my decision to forgo having children is a valid one. The pressure would ruin me. I’m truly not strong enough for this life.
Socially, I have 4 friends here. Two of them are dating eachother. One of them is dating me (does he even count?). And the other one is also in funemployment. So all in all…this extrovert needs more friends*…and a job**
*(This may or may not be a not so sly add for friends. I like listening to music, except country. Don’t come at me with that twangy *ish. I drink dry reds, gin, and whiskey. I like going to clubs, but also hanging out at bars all night. I’m stupid, in a way that I will have fun even if you’re annoyed. I have a friend that constantly told/tells me she can’t stand me at any given moment. I honestly don’t think anyone can replace my group of friends back home but we can try.)
**(This may or may not be a not so sly add for a job. In my last position I was the Digital Solutions Consultant for an international investment firm. I specialized in product development, ux, copywriting, graphic design, and general business relationships between Digital and the rest of the company. My co-workers loved me and I’m sure miss me dearly, as I love and miss them.)