The Heartest Part...

And we're back.

For those not keeping tally I've been unemployed for at least a month. April 28^th; that's the day everything went to change. I'm not sure if it'll be back...

Since then I've been doing numerous things including gaging my life. Unemployment does that to ya; it's like I was dating a chick who not only threw me out of her place but told me that my “going away” present was to the tune of $3,900. Aside from that there's the door. Please shut it on the way out.

And apparently this chick called “employment” is important. She makes you look good when you're with her. Gives you a sense of purpose. Once you lose her “single leprosy” kicks in and your fairweather friends scatter to the four winds. If you're able to pick up another within two weeks you're good; otherwise it's the whole “crossing endless desert to find an oasis”-thing trying to find another. If you know anything about me and relationships then you know I'm not in a good spot right now. Not at all. Once the love is gone it's just a matter of both sides playing their cards until one calls the other's bluff.

So I've been wracking my brain and trying to find a job doing what I really want to do. My problem is that I no longer want to do customer service work (thankless and soul-crushing as it is) and... I don't want to live in Louisville any longer.

There. I said it. Are you happy now?

I've not been wanting to stay in this town since 2008 but I have because of medical issues, car issues, etc. I've spent the last year+ trying to “live life” and got banged around a lot. I guess that's what happens when you spend years avoiding it because of depression and anxiety, not to mention not really having a “friend” base. As I've pointed out in previous blog postings – everything has pointed toward me going out and pursuing what would really make me happy because it just hasn't happened yet.

Happiness. I try to understand the concept. My dad is Presbyterian to the core which makes for no “warm fuzzies” that everyone else in life gets. I don't ever remember my parents saying anything to me about doing well at spelling or really paying any attention to the minutiae of my existence. Maybe I carry that with me and pass it on to others without them understanding. Maybe life is a matter of feeling “appreciated.”

Sunday my friend Michael and I were sitting at Highland Liquors having a few beers and watching the traffic on Bardstown Rd. Michael called me on my proverbial “bullshit” and challenged me to go back into my writing. I find myself not knowing entirely what's wrong with me but acknowledging the hint of truth to what I say: that I can write whereas not a lot of others can. My movie blog gained some notoriety, my writing at Mojo was top-notch, etc. Why? I know film like a mofo. In my lifetime I had one poem published by a campus book, helped form a newspaper, helped a friend of mine start her magazine, became a movie critic, etc. I just wished I had been paid more.

But I enjoyed doing it for the most part (exception: reviewing horrible movies). And there's a truth in the fact that if I'm not vomiting what's inside me on a page or blogging it I don't feel good. There's a release of sorts that comes from this creativity and I'd be stupid not to follow it.

And folks: have I been dumb.

I've also noted that I'm a firm believer in the Calvinistic principle that everything happens for a reason. I think that I was “terminated” not just because I was burnt out (although I think that was the official “unofficial reason”) but that it needed to happen. Life's lessons aren't the five-minute wrap-up morals of a thirty-minute show. Sometimes they hurt in order to help. I take the fact that my friends Andy and Michael are pushing me to get back into filmmaking, me getting “released,” and all the subsequent depression and long-looking and combing-over of my life as a huge sign pointing to “it's now or never.” And yes, Elvis is singing.

I stand wandering between the button that says “RESET” and the highway “EXIT” sign. I have the opportunity to “make a go” in a city of my choosing (currently: Chicago or Seattle). I've been weighing the pros and cons not only of the two cities themselves but also of leaving the 'Ville. I don't know why I'm hesitant – that trepidation that comes with making some decision. I've been here before but it's been nearly a decade. Last time I threw my life into the wind and tried making a go in California. I lost but not without some lessons gained. This time around I don't want to lose again.

I weigh the “worst” that can happen. I imagine either a plane ride or a bus ticket back to Louisville. And what would I be doing once I got back? Same damn thing I'm doing now: looking for work, going to trivia Meetups, having coffee, etc. There would be no change. Maybe a few things lessened due to lack of funds but honestly I would fall back into this routine again if it exists and I'm pretty sure it would.

So, I have nothing to really lose except the $3,000 or so that will be in my bank account by the end of the month. Hopefully $4,000 by the time I want to leave in July. The most difficult part of all of this isn't so much trying to “cash in” any sort of favors it's really... following my heart. I'm not wrapped into whether or not I have kids, or the mortgage, or even something to impress everyone else (though it would be nice). I think I'm just going to try following what makes me happy as difficult as that may be.

First step in all of this is that I'm taking a sabbatical of sorts. I've spent too much time on Facebook and it seems that most of my “friends” are incommunicado or just don't want to talk with me. Maybe they're busy. Maybe it's unemployment “leprosy.” Either way all I can say is that the loneliness of it all is still here and just like those times when I called ten friends and not one would answer, I'm completely there again. Here's to staying off the grid for a few...

Derezzed,

-C