what to do when there is nothing to do

I lost my full-time job last Friday. It wasn’t my fault—my entire company went bankrupt and shut down. But still, I lost my full-time job last Friday.

This graphic sticker was a brilliant play on our classic Mill logo. Designed by the extremely versatile and talented, Salmah Beydoun. She was someone at the Mill who always inspired me to create through her art.

I guess now I can grab lunch with my service industry friends on a random Tuesday. I can take that adult art class at 10 a.m. on a Thursday. I can clean the house on Mondays. Drink on Sundays. Perfect my website. Record those extra songs I’ve had on standby. Begin writing that poetry book. Go to more concerts. TRAVEL!

Stop.

You can’t do any of that—because now, you have to focus on finding a job with healthcare. You need to move back home because you can’t afford rent right now. You need to stop procrastinating and get a car in case you have to commute to a job. You need to reach out to every connection you have and set something up for yourself. You must brainstorm social media campaigns for companies that have no interest in you. You need to update your résumé and start getting certified in every administrative software you can so you appear more desirable.

I’m stressed.

But not more stressed than my friends and extremely talented co-workers WHO HAVE FAMILIES TO SUPPORT, WHO NEED TO TRY TO KEEP THEIR WORK VISAS, OR ARE PREGNANT AND NOW DON'T HAVE AN INCOME OR HEALTH INSURANCE.

I’m stressed for them, too.

I have never been more bombarded by thoughts in my life. I try to let them pass, but instead, they cycle—ruminating, repeating. The last time I felt like this was five years ago, when I graduated college at the start of the pandemic in 2020. But now, I have years of experience in the job industry. I have real adult bills to pay. I have my cats to take care of. And still, the thoughts circulate.

When faced with a major life rut, there isn’t a playbook for what to do. Some people in my exact position already landed new and exciting career propelling jobs. Some are floundering in anger, trying to sue for severance. Others are so shocked and upset that they have frozen in their sadness, unable to take any action at all. Each path is different and nuanced. No one is wrong.

In my solitude, I’ve decided that I’m going to do all the things I’ve wanted to do but blamed my job for holding me back from. I will stay disciplined in my hobbies, my health, and my newfound small business. Above all, I will stay open-minded and optimistic.

Because I think the best thing to do when there’s nothing to do is to stay the course of positive thinking while participating in things that have historically brought you joy.

Seriously, write a list of things that you enjoy and jump around that list participating in those activities.

I’m not saying to be blindly or relentlessly optimistic without pairing it with some good old-fashioned hard work. I’m saying that now, your hard work doesn’t have to mean stressing about an already-unappreciated job until 11 p.m., only for it to be obsolete by morning.

Now, your hard work can be drawing. Singing. Running. Fixing cars. Gardening. Collecting coins. Volunteering at a cat shelter. Taking that cooking class. Meeting up with that friend you always dreamt of opening a business with. So on and so on.

While you enrich yourself and pair it with positive thinking, you’ll be able to identify your core values and make a decision about what you really want to do.

Don’t get me wrong—I’m still getting a job at a pizzeria in the meantime. I’m not suggesting that making money isn’t essential in this day and age because it most certainly is.

I’m just trying to emphasize how important it is to quickly pull yourself out of negative thought loops and stop festering in anger. The sooner you can leave the self-pity party, the better.

(That being said, I’m still throwing myself a hell of a pity party. I’m giving myself until Friday at 5:26 p.m.—exactly one week since I got laid off.)

Right now, I still don't know exactly what to do. But when I wake up on Saturday, the dust will settle, and I’ll start to figure out what to do when there’s nothing to do.