To be unemployed

It has been a month since I lost my job. This week, I received my final payment. It wasn’t unemployment benefit, but rather my salary for the half of last month.

So, what do my days look like now, when weekends and weekdays have become completely indistinguishable?

This is the first time in my life that I haven’t been working. Usually, I never had gaps between jobs — a single day at most. And to be honest, what I’m experiencing right now is... frightening.

The frightening part is what I’m discovering about myself. The longer I stay out of work, the more I realise just how exhausted and burnt out I was by the daily marathon. I was constantly tense and tired. There was this perpetual fear of forgetting something, missing a deadline, failing to cope, or being late. Nervous movements, anxious habits. I had completely forgotten what it feels like to wake up simply because I’ve had enough sleep. A friend told me, "Give it a month, and you’ll be going out of your mind with boredom." That couldn’t be further from the truth.

I am thoroughly enjoying having no plans and just going with the flow.

I go to pilates, cook new dishes, read, and watch Korean romantic dramas on Netflix. Sometimes I meet up with friends, and occasionally I go to the opera or the theatre. I am enjoying the wonderful weather, the scent of blooming jasmine, acacia, and linden, and taking photos of the flowers.

I also spent a few days staying with my mum and my daughter.

I fill my days with little things — face masks, morning stretches, skincare, shopping, and social media. I content myself with trivial things and wait to get bored of living without deadlines. But it just doesn't seem to come. And that scares me a little. I need a job, or rather, I need an income. On one hand, I’d like a similar role to the one I had. At the same time, I wonder if I should try something completely new. Will I have the energy to start from scratch? Only time will tell.

I could have been busy renovating my new flat, but the building it’s in was damaged during a Russian missile strike on the 2nd of May. Now, I have to wait until the repairs are finished.

Speaking of the strikes. It is now the twelfth year since Russia launched a hybrid, veiled war, annexing our land under the guise of "protection". And it is the fifth year since Russia openly invaded Ukraine. Yet, there are still politicians and international organisations who, even while condemning the attacks on our landmarks, museums, and churches, avoid naming the perpetrator behind the destruction. This outrages me to my very core. So, let me remind you, in case you have forgotten: Russia is a terrorist state. A country that lies, steals, and kills. It is not just Putin who kills, but Russian citizens—and their civilians celebrate it, take pride in it, and support it. But I truly believe a day will come when this country pays for our grief and suffering.

And most importantly, every single day I wait for a call or some news from my husband. Right now, his conditions are slightly less severe, but things can still be incredibly difficult for him, especially considering he wasn't able to complete his rehabilitation. I miss him so much, and I look forward to his return every day.