Unemployment

I used to think I was an optimistic person. This is largely because my demeanor leans heavily towards "upbeat" and "bubbly." Also because my life is quite calamitous and yet it never diminished my ability to put a smile on my face (aren't I annoyingly cheerful).

Well, it turns out that smile is only skin deep and unemployment brings out ALL my jaded cynicism. This past month has convinced me that I have actually been a pessimist this whole time, but with an ironically sunny disposition.

I'm pretty sure an optimist sees all the potential and possibility of life. Every failure is an opportunity, right? Every time God closes a door he opens a window?

In my head, things work a little differently. Every failure convinces me that I'll probably never ever get another job as long as I live, ever. Every door that closes sends me into a panic thinking that I'll probably die homeless in a box on the street after a thoroughly unsuccessful life.

My friends and family are like, "dude. Chill."

But I can't! Chill! I am going to be homeless! IN A BOX! No one will visit.

I need help. And a meditation cushion. And a recording that I can put on repeat that tells me I'm only 23 and my life is going to be OK.

(But then again, WHAT IF IT ISN'T??)