Creative Control

Miscellaneous Mental Musings of an Emerging Artist

“As the hours passed, the conviction grew that he was alone.”

I applied for unemployment benefits on August 21st, the day after I was let go from my job. This was, I felt, an improvement over the last time I lost a job, when my sense of overriding shame convinced me that I was undeserving of any such charity from anybody, that in fact I should have gone off somewhere and committed ritual suicide for my failure.

In that time, I have received a number of notices of eligibility and certified by phone several times. I have endured a telephone interview in which my inquisitor asked a number of questions designed to determine whether or not I was eligible to receive any benefits at all. I have dealt with the rigamarole of passing up the debit card and applying instead for direct deposit.

Today, exactly two months later, I have received exactly zero dollars in unemployment benefit compensation.


I didn’t certify yesterday. I hit a frustration point with the whole process, feeling like I was simply being dangled around like a rubber mouse above the patient, razor-sharp claws of a monstrous cat. I feel akin to Orpheus, mere meters away from daylight, growing horribly confident that Hades had not abided by the bargain, that Eurydice was not behind him…seconds away from looking behind him and losing her forever.

I have another opportunity to certify on Thursday. I will call first thing that morning and then I will head on down to the office and try to find out once and for all if I’m going to be receiving any help whatsoever.

I will keep my face forward.

I am perhaps comparing the government bureaucracy to the Greek god of Hell.

Well, of course I am.

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This entry was posted on October 21, 2008 by in Books, Mental Health, Politics, Society, Work.
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