Look around, leaves are brown...
You know what would be nice? If I could have one winter, just one, where I'm not so disenchanted with life that I want to lie in bed and pull the covers over my head and listen to Radiohead's Kid A and not emerge until late February.
2004-5 was shaping up to be the exception, and possibly even a sign of better winters to come -- I defied the gods by having a really nice Christmas that year. But by mid-January I was abruptly thrust back into the familiar and comfortable realm of my own personal Seasonal Affective Disorder.
Let's review the key ingredients in a typical Lisa December over the past, say, 7 years or so (I don't think it's coincidence that 2001 is when the late part of the year surpassed being just a blah time and began to reach new heights of cheerlessness):
I am (hurting for money/pretty broke/in scary debt) because I have (no job/a shitty job) and of course, the holiday season is just the perfect time to be poor. A guy that I like (blows me off/gets a girlfriend/has to move to another country). My parents increasingly (ask me why I can't find a job/tell me to get a "real" job) and my grandmother gives me a hard time about how another year has gone by and I still have no (fiancé/husband/baby). As a result of all this, I (drink too much/can't afford to drink). I'm leaving some other elements out, but that'll do for now. Add to this the fact that I really am affected by the cold and the lack of daylight, and it's no wonder I have no desire to get up in the morning.
Amazingly, this month looked promising at first, in large part because after a long period of unemployment I finally had something good happen on the job front. Earlier this week, after a lot of classes and studying, I passed the ridiculously difficult licensing exam to be a NYC tour guide (yes, this requires a license here). I am now training with a major tour bus company and with luck should be starting work shortly. As many of my good friends have agreed, this is a great job for me -- I know I'm cut out for it, I'll enjoy it, and on top of that it actually pays really well. This is not something I'm settling for because "it's a job" -- it's something I was holding out for.
Then I had this exchange with my mom...
Mom: The guy who's fixing the kitchen remembered that you were looking for work. He gave me his girlfriend's business card -- she owns an employment agency.
Lisa: Well, that was nice of him. A little late now, but say thanks for me anyway.
Mom: What, you're not going to call her?
Lisa: Why should I call her?
Mom: Maybe she can get you a job!
Lisa: ...What have I been preparing for all month?! I have a job lined up now!
Mom: I mean after that.
Lisa: What are you talking about?
Mom: Well how long are you really going to do this for? I mean, it's fine just for now, but...
At which point it really hit me hard. Even a job that's clearly a perfect fit for me is still not a "real" job in the eyes of my parents, or at least my mother. I guess I knew this already, but there's no way I can please them, because I'm simply not going to be a businessperson or a professional writer or any of the other things they mistakenly think I'd be good at. Happy holidays.
And seeing as it's only December 6th and the other aforementioned major factors have already made an appearance too, this is reassuringly turning out to be pretty much just like every other winter. Comfort in routine, as they say.
(Now, wasn't this worth waiting 11 months for? ...No?)
2004-5 was shaping up to be the exception, and possibly even a sign of better winters to come -- I defied the gods by having a really nice Christmas that year. But by mid-January I was abruptly thrust back into the familiar and comfortable realm of my own personal Seasonal Affective Disorder.
Let's review the key ingredients in a typical Lisa December over the past, say, 7 years or so (I don't think it's coincidence that 2001 is when the late part of the year surpassed being just a blah time and began to reach new heights of cheerlessness):
I am (hurting for money/pretty broke/in scary debt) because I have (no job/a shitty job) and of course, the holiday season is just the perfect time to be poor. A guy that I like (blows me off/gets a girlfriend/has to move to another country). My parents increasingly (ask me why I can't find a job/tell me to get a "real" job) and my grandmother gives me a hard time about how another year has gone by and I still have no (fiancé/husband/baby). As a result of all this, I (drink too much/can't afford to drink). I'm leaving some other elements out, but that'll do for now. Add to this the fact that I really am affected by the cold and the lack of daylight, and it's no wonder I have no desire to get up in the morning.
Amazingly, this month looked promising at first, in large part because after a long period of unemployment I finally had something good happen on the job front. Earlier this week, after a lot of classes and studying, I passed the ridiculously difficult licensing exam to be a NYC tour guide (yes, this requires a license here). I am now training with a major tour bus company and with luck should be starting work shortly. As many of my good friends have agreed, this is a great job for me -- I know I'm cut out for it, I'll enjoy it, and on top of that it actually pays really well. This is not something I'm settling for because "it's a job" -- it's something I was holding out for.
Then I had this exchange with my mom...
Mom: The guy who's fixing the kitchen remembered that you were looking for work. He gave me his girlfriend's business card -- she owns an employment agency.
Lisa: Well, that was nice of him. A little late now, but say thanks for me anyway.
Mom: What, you're not going to call her?
Lisa: Why should I call her?
Mom: Maybe she can get you a job!
Lisa: ...What have I been preparing for all month?! I have a job lined up now!
Mom: I mean after that.
Lisa: What are you talking about?
Mom: Well how long are you really going to do this for? I mean, it's fine just for now, but...
At which point it really hit me hard. Even a job that's clearly a perfect fit for me is still not a "real" job in the eyes of my parents, or at least my mother. I guess I knew this already, but there's no way I can please them, because I'm simply not going to be a businessperson or a professional writer or any of the other things they mistakenly think I'd be good at. Happy holidays.
And seeing as it's only December 6th and the other aforementioned major factors have already made an appearance too, this is reassuringly turning out to be pretty much just like every other winter. Comfort in routine, as they say.
(Now, wasn't this worth waiting 11 months for? ...No?)