this time

When I was 22, I moved to Los Angeles for the first time. I'd graduated from college in May and spent the summer working at a restaurant in Boston but by September first I was driving my new used car across Arizona and New Mexico, marveling at how unbelievably boring the drive was.

Lots of people I'd gone to college with had seemed utterly, staggeringly prepared for the future. They had jobs or life plans for after graduation, and in response, I'd had this. I'd been dating my boyfriend long distance for the last two years and despite the fact that it'd started to get rocky after a year I'd clung to this plan because it seemed so logical and—out of all the possible things I could do after graduation—easy.

It wasn't easy. Moving is never as easy as I think it will be, and I was young(er) and terrified and in a difficult relationship. I spent four months looking for jobs (which consisted of a surprising amount of watching tv and being depressed) until miraculously I landed a great job the day I flew home for Christmas. With that job everything fell into place. Two months later my boyfriend and I broke up. I got a place of my own and even though life continued to be weird and frustrating and difficult for other reasons, it was never as bad as being in a strange city with no friends and no income, dependent upon someone who was contributing to my general malaise.

The point of this post was going to be to wonder whether this time is better or worse, but I just answered my question in those first two paragraphs. This time, granted, I don't have a permanent place to live. That brings its own frustrations with it and I'm seriously not discounting those because sometimes I hear my hangers clicking as I drive over bumps, or my earrings rattling, or I'm looking for one small thing that should be SO. EASY. to find and I can't and I think I can actually hear my blood vessels exploding. But really, I do have places to stay. I have lots and lots of places and what's more, I have lots of people who are willing to help. I have this whole extended network of friends who are actively giving me shelter or buying me food or taking me out or listening to me when I am convinced that this is what my life is going to be like for eternity.

I also know with some certainty that it's not going to be like this for eternity precisely because I've had that other experience. I didn't know anything then, about who I was or what it was like to live life by myself and I still managed to pull it together in a fairly short time. For over two years, I worked at one job and in that time I learned to navigate difficult situations with grace and poise. I learned invaluable things about my industry and working relationships and for that reason I'm proud I stayed as long as I did.

That said, I might be even more proud that I left when I did. I stuck it out until I had gotten and given as much as I possibly could and then decided that the bravest and best thing I could do was walk away (after giving over a month's notice) without knowing what came next. It's been alternately difficult and incredibly rewarding but what sustains me is that this time it was completely my choice. It's better this time because I have no interest in giving up or feeling sorry for myself or wondering when it will all end. This time it's my life and I have chosen to live it.

the good

I'm working on focusing on the the positive aspects of unemployment. There are upsides and downsides to anything and it's only when one column outnumbers the other that you actually get to decide that something is definitively one way or the other. The problems start when you've decided, consciously or not. That's when it becomes difficult to see anything but the bad (or the good), and I don't want to get stuck in that. Here is my short list of the good:

Freedom. (Just another word for nothing left to lose.) My days here are so open. It's (I admit guiltily) nice to wake up in the morning sometimes and not know what I'm doing. The caveat appears to be that I can take a day here and there, but no more without feeling awful and lazy.

Days free. When I worked in an office I would say I didn't take a lunch break at least 80% of the time. From 9 am to 6 (or 6:30 or 7) I sat inside staring at a computer screen. People would come in and remark on the weather and it would take me a second before I realized I had absolutely no idea what they were talking about. Now I can go hiking during the day or go and sit on Venice Beach for as long as I want.

Friends. My friends are proving to me daily how lucky I am to have them. From giving me places to stay to just listening when they can tell I'm going a little crazy, unemployment has strengthened my relationships and also given me the time to really enjoy them.

Adventure. I didn't want to look back on my life and realize that I'd only ever made the safe, rational decisions. It's true that sometimes my life right now is less than fun. It was true before, too and I think it's good for me to realize that there is always joy and fun to be had, if I can find it. This summer made me a better and happier person. It clarified what I want from my life and I would argue till I was breathless with anyone who questioned its worth.

The odds of me couch surfing and living out of my car indefinitely are very, very slim. If nothing else, I'm gonna end up homeless on the beach. That's a joke, but it's oddly comforting to know that, regardless of what happens, things will change. That gives me infinite possibilities to make them change for the better.

Highs and Lows

Yesterday I felt unstoppable. I spent Wed weepy and dejected, after hearing negative responses from interviews, employment agencies and--I swear to god--random strangers on the street. I also tried to dye my hair back to its natural color but instead of light brown ended up with almost black hair. And so, after calling Garnier and complaining, I collapsed into a stupid, sniveling mess in my stupid, messy car. (Unrelated, kind of: If you have a second, check out reviews of Garnier's Blow Dry Perfector. It was probably my mistake to trust a company that sells and heavily markets a product like that.)

A few minutes later, when I'd mostly gotten a grip, I got on the 10 and headed to the beach. It is a scientific, documented fact that no one throughout the course of history has ever been able to feel bad at the beach (except, as I say that I wonder about battles that were fought on beaches, and the homeless people who populate Venice). Let me amend that: throughout the course of history I have never once felt bad when I was at the beach. I'd been to the boardwalk a few times since I'd been back, but this was my first time on the sand and near the water and even though the waves were icy I headed straight for them.

Camille's cure for depression: 10 minute ocean baptism, followed by 30 minutes of watching the waves while you dirty your fingers by digging them into the sand. Add a small serving of gelato, along with approximately 30 street vendors calling you beautiful as you walk by. Finish with a good friend who offers encouraging comments. Repeat as necessary.

I firmly believe that a day of feeling sorry for yourself every once in a while is absolutely necessary, but any longer than that feels self-indulgent and detrimental. That's why I felt unstoppable when I woke up yesterday morning--because I'd gotten it out of my system and moved on. I cleaned out my car and my room. I signed up for things. I made plans for things to come and never once doubted that I was on the right path. It was totally great and I was exhilarated but highs like that are really difficult to maintain.

Today, I'm back to normal. I am still hopeful and optimistic but less 100% about things than I was yesterday. Building a life takes a lot of hard work and it would be totally disingenuous of me to say that I'm not also a little nervous for my future--professional and personal. At the end of the day, though, it comes down to one thing: all I can do is put one foot in front of the other, and so that's what I'm doing, with as much grace and positivity as I can muster.