When you are jobless and broke, one very important thing you need to do is tell everyone including the wife/husband, the kids, the dog (or replacement dog), and anyone else who lives with you, that until further notice, protocols when calling the house have now changed.

“If anyone of you is out and needs to call the house phone. Let it ring twice. Hang up, then call again. That will be our new, special family signal. Won’t that be cool? Now, if you’re home and the phone rings, listen to the rings. It should ring twice, then stop. There needs to be a pause. Then you will hear the phone begin to ring again. At this point you may answer it. Everybody got that? Listen for the pause. No pause, no answer.”

Gee whiz, you ask. Why on earth would I want to do that? Again, we do this to temporarily (remember the “Pause” button) avoid all of the potential worrisome calls from shall we say, “certain types of undesirables” who do not have a “Pause” button for you.

If you do not do this, you will actually crouch down behind the kitchen counter every time you hear the phone ring, because you just know it’s a bill collector and they can actually see you and know you’re home, and why aren’t you answering?

If you engage this system, but for some stupid reason, pick up the receiver before you you make sure it’s your “special signal,” you will hear a voice on the other end of the phone say, “Mr/Mrs. (insert your name here) this is Gary, (probably that guy from New Dehli your former boss told you about. You know, the one who could do your job for one tenth the salary) from (insert the name of the finance company here). Where the hell is my money?”

At this juncture I can only advise you to try and work out some sort of restructuring of whatever debt he is talking about. If you are unable to do so, tell him to send his boys over and take your couch. It’s a real nice one and quite comfortable. Tell him to sell it. That will at least help pay off some of your debt.

Gary will not find this funny. In reality it’s not, but it’s kind of funny to you. Anyway, what the hell, Gary is in New Delhi, and it will take his moving truck weeks to get to your place to pick up that couch.

 

 

 

 

My Advice? Hold it together.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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In case you’re wondering about the title of this entry, these are the final words spoken in the movies Apocalypse Now, Failsafe, and The Bridge on the River Kwai.

    

 

 

Things don’t always turn out the way we would like, but we go through them only because we have to.

When you’re unemployed and broke, there will be lots and lots of emotions that will often invade your serenity. You’ve got a bunch to pick from: embarrassment, humiliation, frustration, and on and on and on. But there’s one that will pretty much represent your theme song as you go through your daily routines. In fact, it will represent the strongest emotion of them all. See how much you have to look forward to?

It’s fear.

Good old fashioned, “What was that?” “Who’s there?” “I owe how much?”

Remember when you were a kid and how frightened you were to open your closet door at night when the lights were out? Access that memory right now. It’s just like that.

The phone rings, your heart races. You hear a knock on the door and you find a convenient place to hide. The daily walk to the mailbox fills you with nothing but dread.

Phone calls go unanswered. Letters do not get opened. Knocks on the door are ignored. You sweat a lot more, your hands shake a bit, your mouth gets dry. You pace around the house with anxiety. You pull down the window shades. You can’t carry on a normal conversation with anyone. Even if you have caller ID on your cell phone and you know the incoming call is from a friend, you won’t answer it. You don’t sleep very well, and when you do, your dreams take on a real psychotic texture.

To top it all off, your mate is due home soon. And you are afraid. Why? Because you know the first thing he or she is going to ask. Yep, “How was your day? Have any luck?” How many days in a row are you going to have to answer, “Not so good. No luck today.” before you just pop and answer, “JesusChristAlmighty. Stop asking me the same Goddamn thing every day. I swear to God, I swear to God, if anything important happens, I will tell you. Now come over here and give me a big kiss, cuz I love you so much.”

If you are an Unemployed – American man reading this, the “Now come over here and give me a big kiss, cuz I love you so much.” ending is a nice touch. But don’t expect any real intimacy, because honestly, unemployed guys, unless they are like, 18, just don’t get laid. No woman in her right mind is going to have sex with you.

If you are an Unemployed – American woman reading this, that last line will get you laid. That’s because, well, he’s a guy, and he’s a pig boy. He is the dog and you are the pork chop. It’s really pretty simple when you stop and think about it.

Get used to the fear that will be your constant companion until this unemployment issue is resolved. You are a human being, full of human emotions. And many of them, especially fear, will come out. It’s natural. You are not going crazy. You are going through what any other human being would go through.

I’m not telling you to “embrace the horror,” but I am telling you that while there is no magical formula for getting past these emotions, don’t let them begin to dominate your thinking process.

Accept them as part of the situation you are in. Right now, you’re supposed to be afraid. With time, I swear to God, you can work through all of this (refer back to chapter 2). Do not jump off the cliff.

My Advice? Realize that what you want is on the other side of fear.

 

Spoke with a friend of mine the other day. She had just broken up with her boyfriend recently, and was telling me that she was anxious to put it all behind her and move on. But something in her words and the look in her eyes told me that she was not ready. It reminded me of a passage I wrote in my RealAdviceForTheUnemployed book:

Immediately after you get fired, you  just experienced one of the most significant, emotionally devastating experiences you will ever face.

The worst and the most futile thing I or anyone else can do in trying to help you out of this mess is to calmly (and, pretending that I/we are experts in your particular situation) tell you to sit down and make a list of 10 things concerning this or that, create an inventory of household items you don’t require, so you can sell them at the garage sale you are now going to need to have, and add up all of your monthly expenditures in order to take stock of where you are financially to see if there’s anything you can cut back on right away. 

Now, make a list of 10 businesses you can call on to see what exciting new jobs they have waiting just for you.

ThankyouverymuchIllgetonthatrightaway.

The truth is, lists are nice. They help us organize our thoughts. They give us a visual representation of all the things we need to do, all the prioritization of things that need to be done. And lists provide us with that “map” so we don’t get lost.

Lists are important, but they’re important for those who actually don’t need to make a list. They are important for those who already lead orderly lives and have set schedules that gives them the time to make lists.They are important for those who are thinking rationally and are not (like you are) slowly but surely going quite insane. At this point, your logical functioning is probably on par with a marmoset, and your hands are shaking so much that your penmanship rivals that of your 88 year old grandfather. Make a list? Right now? In the middle of all this?

Bite me.

And as far as those 10 businesses you’re asked to list so you can give them a call concerning new employment opportunities? Not only have your writing skills abandoned you, but your verbal skills have deserted you as well, seeking much much greener pastures with someone who can form a sentence or two that actually makes sense.

Your vocabulary now mainly consists of “Wha?” “Huh?” “I dunno”, and “^#$%&^&@#^*!” This is because without a job to keep your mind functioning at it’s highest level, your I.Q. has, at warp speed, gone from 130 to just below 80. You are now not only unemployed, you are now talking and probably acting like an idiot.

And idiots don’t get jobs.

Is list making what you did when your dog died? Sorry to bring up a sad memory in your life, but it fits. After the passing of your beloved pet, did you think about replacing Rover right away? Did you immediately sit down and list 5 attributes you wanted in a new, replacement dog? Did you create a list of cute dog names to pick from right after he closed his eyes for the last time?

No you did not.

You sat down and had a good cry. I don’t care how tough or studly you think you are, you probably sobbed like a baby, and you didn’t give a shit who knew it.

You then grabbed your shovel and dug a deep hole in your yard (probably in the spot where your beloved friend spent a great deal of his/her time), lovingly wrapped it in a nice white shroud, and cradling it in your arms, carried it to it’s final resting place. Standing at the gravesite with your wife and children by your side, and reading excerpts from Rudyard Kipling’s “A Dog For Jesus,” you cried some more. And you were not ashamed.

When all in attendance at this funeral said their goodbyes, you all hugged one another. Sending the wife and children away, you gently placed the poem into the grave (so Jesus could read it when he received your pet), and you began the final task of covering up the grave alone with your private thoughts and cherished memories, because you needed to finish the last scene by yourself.

You grieved. You say goodbye. You’re still sad, but you went through the proper steps that helped you put some closure on your loss. You healed a bit.

By the way, look up that poem and see if you can get through it without weeping like a little girl. I’m not kidding. Stop reading this book right now and Google that poem. Read it. I’ll wait.

Better yet, watch the video.

See? I told you. You cried, didn’t you. It’s alright. We all need a good cry every so often.

Especially you.

This is just one of the things you need to do when you lose your job. Cry, say your goodbyes, bury it, and move on.

I say “one of the things,” you need to do because we all react to personal losses in our own way. A way that is personal to us. A way that helps us exorcise our hurt and sense of tragic loss. Do not feel guilty about how you do it to manage your pain. This is your way – nobody elses. And you need to heal yourself regarding your loss the best way you can, because before this is all over, before you regain your balance, you’re going to go through some really crazy stuff and you need to be clear headed and strong.

Real strong.

It might not be the best time to sit down and make a list right now. Especially on your computer. Because somewhere in the top 5 things to do, you will write, “Burn down my ex boss’s house.” This could become public at some point and paint you in a bad light, especially if your ex boss’s house actually does catch on fire someday.

My Advice? Stay strong!