Unemployment is shit. We all know that. No matter how firmly you advocate living a life where getting up at 11am is considered a ‘good effort’ or where trousers are deemed an optional extra, the truth of the matter is that being out of work is fucking rubbish. Unless, of course, you’re of independent means and can afford to spend your days playing golf in your own private castle with the testicles of the poor, or whatever it is that the upper classes do with their time.
As much as we all like to bitch and moan about our jobs, they provide us with the means to enjoy such luxuries as food and walls – things you definitely start to appreciate when the security of your job-funded paycheck is pulled from underneath you without warning. I should know, as exactly that same thing happened to me earlier this year, along with countless thousands of others who have fallen foul of the cataclysmic economic rimshafting our country currently finds itself on the receiving end of.
The hardest thing about being unemployed is keeping up a routine (and no, tea > facebook > wank > shower > Jeremy Kyle does not qualify as a routine). Without routine, days lose all meaning and killing time becomes a pastime in itself. A lie-in becomes nothing more special than a source of relief that X number of hours have passed without you having to spend money or engage the increasingly decrepit cogs of your brain, and pretty soon you’re contemplating just how much of each day it is acceptable to spend picking your nose and flicking it at the vacuous faces of game show contestants on television.
You don’t need me to tell you that succumbing to that level of apathy – while fascinating in a morbidly voyeuristic sense – is not a healthy way to live. In fact, it’s about as healthy as a £50-a-day heroin habit, and only marginally less likely to ruin your whole life. My advice? Get a routine and stick to it every day, even if that routine consists of little more than forcing yourself to get up at a time that can still reasonably be termed breakfast. You might end up just writing the same old bullshit job applications over and over again for weeks, but you’d be amazed how a bit of structure can keep you going when all other forms of motivation have long since left you for dead. Keep going, and eventually you will accomplish something.
Don’t believe me? Well then you can go and pick your nose and shoot as much heroin as you like…
OK, as promised, here’s your little present for having sat through all of that. Ladies and gentlebredrin, I give you EroticFalconry