2016 has been a great year, literally too much for me. If I accumulate all of my past professional, personal and social experiences, and grind them into one big smoothie, it will still seem tasteless compared to the experience I have accumulated in this year and this year alone. Before you criticize me for getting into a soul-strangling mess, let me give myself a little praise. I deserve some praise. After all, it takes a lot of courage to put everything you’ve worked for behind you and move to a new country in the hope of succeeding.
Let me break this down:
City girl moving to another city? Shouldn’t it be a difficult transition?
Moving to another city, how bad can it be? Hey, she still knows how to blend into fast-paced city life, she still has an idea of what to expect! My bad, I underestimated the transition in more ways than one. Another city is not “just” another city. It’s a whole new world! The people, the culture, the rules and regulations, everything is nothing you would expect. With such minimal knowledge and knowledge, I was immediately wrong.
The dirty dating games
Not only did I leave my job, my home and my family behind, I also put aside all the affiliations I had with my ex boyfriend. I wanted to explore dating territory in a new place amongst unknown homo sapiens. Most women are programmed to want love, find a husband, and create adorable babies. I am no different! The move was motivated not only by career aspirations, but also by love and marriage. I wanted to experience it all. Unfortunately, dating as a rookie had devastating results. Countless dates began at the coffee tables and conveniently ended there. Finding “the one” took me nine months and two dozen embarrassing dates.
Money! Now You See Me, Now You Do not!
Let me explain the financial disaster program that I am currently presenting. I’m bankrupt because I don’t have a job, I lost my job because I wasn’t paid for months. Yes, my previous employers stopped paying, period! Oh, and I forgot to mention the psychological trauma that came with defaults. I took matters into my own hands and exercised my legal rights not to work for free. Now here I am, 3 months unemployed, living on a miniscule income that barely covers my rent.
What makes my situation worse is the limited availability of resources. Financial resources will eventually run out. Did I somehow manage to rack up a huge credit card bill? When and how that happened is a question I often ask myself. And retail therapy is the answer I conveniently provide to ease my aching existence. The funny thing is that I have managed to convince myself that I am depressed because I have no money and that is why I need to spend on myself to feel better. Basically, I indulged in retail therapy with money I didn’t have.
Where is the glory of being independent?
How do I start my day? There is no beginning and no end. There is no schedule. I’m not going to deny the fact that being unemployed comes with the privilege of endless hours of sleep. I can sleep until noon, stay up all night, and watch movies all day!
But there is no glory in being unemployed. There comes a time when you start to feel like a loser. You feel worthless. So here I am, living independently, struggling to make ends meet, and struggling to keep my sanity intact. I hear people tell me how lucky I am to be here alone with complete freedom to make my own decisions. The truth is far from all good. Life is hitting me and I keep swinging backwards like a crazy blind woman, hoping to smash that imaginary piñata and win a jackpot!