Surprisingly, Okay

Lately, I think I’ve been stressing (mildly, I admit) about how it’s been since September I’ve been back now and I still haven’t found a job. I keep thinking it’s because I’m not physically ready – as in, in shape, and that’s partially true. However, it’s also incredibly mental. As in, intellectually/psychologically. 

In this time of being, not only completely jobless, but completely single, I’ve obviously had ample time to myself. Time to laze about, time to think, time to suss out what I truly want in many different aspects of my life, but more importantly, if not most importantly, I’ve had time to learn

Not only learning facts and information about the world, but things about myself. 

I feel like the lesson is done once you’ve learned it. I learned an exponential amount about myself, culture, others, etc while I was in London, but that came to an end unfortunately. I learned valuable educational information from my masters program, but that came to an end, thank God

I felt myself in a state of flux, again, being done with my masters, but not having a job. I was not, and I’m still not, driven to take up a job just for the sake of it. I want my next job to be something I wholeheartedly desire, from which I can grow over the years, and maintain as a career. (I know it’s a lot to ask as a baby). I still want that. But during a rather luxurious shower this morning at sun-up, I realized something that brought a sob of relief out of me:

This time has not been wasted in the least.

I can’t even put a quantity on how much I’ve learned since I’ve had nothing doing. No wonder I’ve never been bored. No wonder I’m not itching to get a job to pass the time. This entire time, I’ve been absorbing vast amounts of knowledge. And sometimes food.

I’ve read so much that I had to get eye drops for the deserts that had become my orbital sockets. I’ve watched so many documentaries and biopics and have been able to hold the most brilliant discussions with friends. I’ve not even gotten started with all the meta-analysis on Sherlock, but  boy, what I’ve done so far makes me salivate. I’ve had my poor, dry eyes opened on so many occasions in the past four-ish months. I never stopped my quest for wisdom, I’ve been on it all along. 

It’s been entirely fulfilling and rewarding. I’ve been spending such wonderful time with my parents, my brother, and consumed a mass amount of tea (and coffee). I’ve Brit-binged thanks to BBC America and Netflix. I’ve applied for about fifty jobs since October. I’ve even been able to get a feel for the housing market in LA (not as bad as I imagined), Manhattan (half a mil for a studio?!), and, because I’m a bit of a masochist, London (sorry, what per week?!). I’ll be prepared when I get that call.

I have the brightest goddamn outlook for myself, it may err on the side of fantastical. 

But that’s okay.

It’s easy, well, sometimes, anyway, to look back on a situation or time of your life and think, ah, that’s why I had to endure that: I learned __________. Hindsight is usually 20/20, as they say. I seem to have House-epiphanied my reason for this time in my life, which simultaneously thrills me and frightens me. 

Does that mean it’s over? Or close to being over? Lesson-mostly-learned, right?

Until I know for certain, I’ll keep on this path. It’s not one I’m looking forward to leaving, but I know the next turn will be an exciting one.

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