callback

Guess what.

No, really. Guess what.

I'm going to have an interview.

For a real job. Aren't you proud?

(Go, me!)

Actually, it's a screening interview, and actually, it's not scheduled yet, and actually, I have to make a phone call today in order to set it up. But on the plus sides, someone actually wanted to talk to me about a job, and it's not one of those "Work from Home and Make Thousands!" schemes, nor is it a dubious corporation that claims to be able to double, triple, quadruple my investment (if I only buy three thousand dollars worth of their product and sell it on the streets, I, too, can be Rich! And here are all these success stories to show you other happy veterans of our company!) which I think bodes well for the first interview of this unemployment season.

I shan't tell you much beyond that, because honestly, it would be Bad Form. However, I will tell you that it's going to be very fun -- because I like interviews, I really do -- and very exciting, because I can dress up again, and very promising, because I wasn't expecting responses to resumes for at least another two weeks. I'm ahead of my schedule, arbitrary though it is.

Oh. I never showed you my schedule, did I?

My theory is that there's really nothing about unemployment that can be rationed or rationalized out; so much of unemployment involves sitting around and picking your nose, so you really have to make an effort to set goals for yourself. Knowing the incredible brain-sapping qualities of my flannel Tweety pajamas -- those of you who're on my notify list will be pleased to know I found it at the bottom of my laundry -- I made sure not to set any goals that required actual, you know, discipline on my part.

My schedule therefore appears as follows:

One week after realizing unemployment: Start looking for jobs.

Being intellectually cognizant that one is unemployed, and actually caring that one is unemployed are two different things. After all, I had Seattle to go to, and Mauritius to debunk, then jetlag to recover from after my layoff, so all in all it was a pretty substantial amount of time before I really had any breathing room to give a damn that I had no more steady income. I set this day at February 8. The reason I select February 8 is because that's the day I applied for unemployment.

Initially, I was thinking that I wouldn't apply for unemployment at all. After all, I had my -- hah hah! -- my pride to think of, and taking handouts from the government smacks so much of welfare that I had trouble wrapping my -- hah hah again! -- pride around it. That was until one hazy day during my jetlag fugue state, when I optimistically decided to start doing my taxes.

One look at that IRS form, and I instantly trotted back to the computer to look up the California Employment Development Department. I made that phone call and got my unemployment check started, dammit, and I haven't looked back since. $660 every two weeks. Pays for my rent, pays for my credit card minimum, pays for two student loan checks.

Hey, it's my money. Why shouldn't I get some use out of the services I paid for, dammit?

Two weeks after realizing unemployment: Start applying for jobs.

I figured it would take at least that long to finish fixing up my resume and actually sending it off. Of all the things that I hate, resume-writing for myself is on the top of the list. I can write resumes for other people, no problem; in fact, much of my last three weeks at Excite@Home was spent fine-tuning resumes for people. On my own, however. . . well. Let's just say that I would have had difficulty getting noticed for even government work, and leave it at that.

Plus, I wanted to take some of those unemployment quizzes just for kicks; you know the ones, "What should you really do with your life?" Back in high school, we took these vocational exams at a fairly regular interval. High school administrators are big on showing their students that if they don't shape up, they'll end up bricklayers in sewage treatment facilities.

Personally, I think the people who make up those tests are the same people who make up the personality tests for Scientology and Dianetics. You know the ones, the 'What Will Fulfill the Void Inside?' where the final response informs you that the only way to true happiness is Ron Hubbard and alien invaders, give us your money and buy your soul some peace?

(What would really fill my void right now: a hamburger and fries.)

Two months after realizing unemployment: Start interviews.

Two months. Woo hoo! I'm a few weeks ahead. Properly, two months would mean the beginning of April. Who rocks the house, baby? Who rocks the house?

Three months after realizing unemployment: Get job offer.

I have no idea. I know three months is optimistic in this economy, but screw it. Three months. That's what I did last time, that's what I'll do this time.

If I don't make that, I'll demand presents of consolation.