Rollercoaster, or it's my blog and I'll cry if I want to.

Since I'm counting, I can tell you that it's been just over three months that I've been unemployed. I have tried to keep my spirits up - and I've done an ok job. I'm not prone to crying, I've played outside. I've stayed out having fun on school nights and then slept in. I've had sex while other people have been in meetings. But I gotta tell you: this is too much. Now that the play I'm in is swinging into production week (we open on Thursday), I'm exhausted, and it's harder to fight off bad feelings. It's harder to remember what it's like to feel like I'm contributing to more than unemployment statistics. My parents' voices sound strained and worried when I talk to them, and I feel like that's just a mirror of how I sound: scared.

I don't need for people to tell me that it'll be better and that I'll find something. I'm only 31, I will have another job. And I don't fear that I'll go hungry, or live on the streets. But there's a big morale problem here and I do fear that I'm slipping. Most of the time the way that I handle this is to just keep it on the surface and look at the facts: I will get a job at some point. Unemployment insurance is fairly generous. I am young and healthy and I don't have debts to pay off. But sometimes I feel chewed up. Today is one of those days. Yesterday too. I'm hoping tomorrow I wake up and feel stronger.