How To Be Unemployed

The economy suddenly ate it. My family and friends got laid off in startled droves. I heard countless tales of empty days, wasted nights, and a total lack of purpose. Basically, they were describing my ideal state of existence.

Then, shockingly, I saw these people becoming bored, frustrated, even depressed by their blessed new lifestyle. Mentally, I shrugged. I figured that they must have been doing something wrong.

Then I got laid off. And you know what? It turns out I was right: there really is a way to make long-term unemployment work for you. Or "not work" for you! No, actually I mean it can work for you.

PART ONE: "Health Insurance Is For Babies"

Immediately upon getting canned, you'll face the looming specter of losing your health insurance, which seems like a bad thing at first. Unless you've got a life-partner upon whose insurance plan you can glom, you'll be staring down something like Cobra, which will cost you at least 250 bucks a month. Uh oh.

So I say cut it out. Get rid of it. Live dangerously. The fear of becoming injured or sick will add some much needed excitement to your suddenly empty life. See that? That's two birds with one stone. Come with me.

PART TWO: "Tighten Your Belt, Then Sell It"

On unemployment, you'll be earning a healthy fraction of what you used to make, depending on the state you live in. Something like 60% of your old salary. For doing nothing at all. The day your first check arrives, you'll feel like you've gotten away with gold-plated murder. And you have. You've beaten the all-powerful system, for the love of God! You should be proud!

Of course, you'll have to make some obvious lifestyle changes. No more microbrews or imports -- they're pretentious anyway. Pabst Blue Ribbon is a solid beer, it's still somewhat hip with the kids, and it's cheaper than water in some places. As for eating, Jeno's frozen pizzas are even cheaper than Mama Celeste, and the internal horrors they cause will clean out your system like a tangy power washer. No more expensive enemas!

If you've got a car, the payments will kill you. It's time to trade down. You're gonna want something used and cheap, but with character, like an old Subaru Brat or an AMC Eagle. That way, you can pretend you're a quirky enthusiast, not a failure. True, your new shitbox might only last you a year, but by that time your unemployment will have run out. And if you haven't figured out how to support yourself by then, this guide can't help you.

PART THREE: "Your New Schedule"

It's nearly impossible to fill a whole jobless day with productive or legal activities. There are only so many resumes you can send out, only so many times you can check the same websites for non-existent jobs, and only so many ways to listlessly bring yourself off in a traditional eight-hour day. You end up watching daytime TV, feeling useless, dejected, and sticky. I've seen it a thousand times.

The key is to skip the morning entirely. Aim to wake up between noon and one. That way, by the time you shower, drink some coffee, check email/Facebook/Twitter/Jdate and stalk the hot meter maid for a while, it's five o'clock. Your day is over. You haven't had time to watch Tyra, or stare blankly at traffic for an hour and a half, or realize how fat you are. You've been busy!

At this point in your modified day, your significant other/foster kids/roommate(s) should be getting home from work or lacrosse practice. Jump on this chance plug back into society by sharing a hearty dinner, although it'll technically be your lunch. But they'll never know!!! Shhhh!!!

After dinner-lunch, relax with your family/idiot friends the way normal people do. Unwind. Have a laugh. Pretend you've earned it.

By midnight, you'll feel like you should be heading for bed. But you can't quit now! The hours between midnight and 3 AM are what we in the Unemployment Scene call "Our Time". Nobody's awake, nobody's watching. Do whatever you want. Watch Cinemax. Write the Great American Crazy Manifesto. Draw a funny picture of a cat high-fiving a dog. Whack off. Enjoy it. This is your time.

Hit the sack around three, get your nine hours, get up at noon, and start all over. You're winning!

PART FOUR: "The Summing Up Part/Cry Me A River"

Hey. Hey. You're getting paid not to work. Enjoy it, because it won't last forever. Sooner or later, Uncle Sam will swat you away from his exhausted teat. You'll get a job, or you'll be homeless. What's important is how you spend this unique time. So follow this guide, keep your head up, and most importantly, remember that life on unemployment is no more plodding and meaningless than life itself.

Good luck!