• Personal branding in the "Me" economy… someone stole my idea… http://tinyurl.com/ydckn35 #
• Does anyone else narrate their life in their own head in the 3rd person as it happens? #
• #Spiderman can't collect unemployment… http://tinyurl.com/yg5e3e8 #
• The down #economy breeds hate groups… http://tinyurl.com/ydpst7m #
• While I was at the gym today, one of the staff made microwave popcorn… so so mean. #

I’ve been a horrible person. It’s not because I hate you, though I probably do, because I’m a horrible person. How’s that for circular logic? It’s because I’ve been ignoring my blog – the public manifestation of my unemployment. Don’t get me wrong, I love blogging, and have no plans to stop. (And I love you too.) Life just got very busy, in a very good way.

My short-term unemployment status is now in question. I don’t have a full-time job with an annual salary, health insurance and a 401K that will never let me retire. But I do have a desk smaller than a standardized test cubicle from elementary school to sit at every weekday, all day. I do get email reminders to delete files off the server and remove food from the office refrigerator. And I do have an ever-growing to-do list. But the most exciting part… the multiple paychecks in my future. Now if I could only remember how to turn them into those green pieces of paper.

A contact I’d recently reconnected with emailed me a few weeks ago. She was heading up a big project and asked me to participate. I couldn’t say yes fast enough. It didn’t matter what the work was, though given the source, I had a sense. Nor did it matter that sitting next to me would be “some New Jersey yokel who mainlines Diet Pepsi and eats cashews by the barrel,” as she described him. Okay, maybe my crystal ball told me that last part. It’s been a whirlwind two weeks. Who can remember what came from the all-knowing, all-seeing orb and what came from my soon-to-be temporary boss? But shortly after she contacted me, I was working. The orb portended good things.

That’s the upside, or the downside when it comes to my blog. In addition to a temporary full-time gig, I have smaller freelance projects, which keep me from sleeping much. And there’s the potential for more.

One small project came by way of wifey. A freelance client of hers found me through her portfolio website, and asked for help with his new website. He needed some editing and troubleshooting, and, essentially, a kick in the ass to get things done. It sounded interesting, by which I mean, it paid money and sounded interesting. And if there’s one thing I can do, it’s kick some ass.

An old dear friend reached out to me about some small-scale project management work. I have the skill in my repertoire, though the discussion was purely theoretical. I referenced a social media map I’d seen at a WordPress conference, and that became a short-term project. The discussion has since evolved and should lead to more work. She wasn’t just feeling sorry for me, as I first suspected.

There’s also been some extra blogging on the side. That’s right, not only have I ignored Jobless and Less, I’ve cheated on it with other blogs. It’s all out in the open now. And I’m not ashamed. One blog called SmartBlog on Social Media is about cooking or keeping a pet pachyderm. Or maybe it’s about cooking your pet pachyderm. The focus of the site was a little unclear when I started. So I wrote a piece on social media, as it relates to search engine marketing…

Let social media help your SEO

The other site is AOL; maybe you’ve heard of it. I hadn’t. Here’s a link to my first article there…

Seeking Stay-At-Home Dad… Positions Being Filled Now!

The second piece for both sites is written and could go live at any moment. I’ll post the links when they do. So my advice to you – hated and loved reader – is to stay on my site and hit [refresh] until they appear. That could be in an hour or a week. But the surprise of knowing will make the waiting worthwhile.

The point of all this isn’t to gloat, far from it. Nor is it to garner sympathy. I’ve averaged five hours of sleep per night for a couple weeks. And April may find me unemployed (or underemployed) once again. The point is to raise some important questions.

Can I really cobble together a living from all this? I don’t know. Do I want to? Again, I don’t know. Many people make a living freelancing, some a very good living. But freelancing seems like one never-ending job search, interspersed with lots of work. These are the opportunities presenting themselves. Being in no position to turn down work, I keep accepting. What choice does a long-term unemployed type like me have? I’ll give it a try and let you know what happens.

• 20 unemployed people for every #job opening in #NYC .. gotta love them odds… http://tinyurl.com/yzutp95 #unemployment #
• Ridiculous and hilarious #employee training videos… http://tinyurl.com/yamjt22 #
• Why does #NBC honor the world's best athletes with the world's worst music? #Olympics #
• Cities are shortening the length of yellow #traffic lights to give out more tickets… http://tinyurl.com/yka37dn #
• I'm watching a Soul Train rerun and wondering if I'll ever be as cool as Don Cornelius. #
• #Fortune #039;s 100 Best Companies to work for, because us #unemployed really have a choice. .. http://tinyurl.com/yjwf78r #

• Ways to make a little (and I mean a little) money while #unemployed… http://tinyurl.com/y8kekv7 #
• One good thing about #unemployment .. I can listen to all the bleepy-bloopy electronic #music I want. #
• Even in #unemployment I have to pay #taxes .. http://tinyurl.com/yjl8oyr #
• The little kid next to me in the cafe is having the mother of all hissy fits. #
• Short track speed #skating would be even better if it were full contact. #

They told me the girls would like me more if I got in shape.

I hurt myself at the gym the other day. The exact moment is still fresh in my head. There I was, back flat against the weight bench, two 400-pound dumbbells poised above my head. Nickelback played through the speakers, angering me to the brink of insanity at the unfairness of life. My muscles twitched; sweat dripped off my brow. Four spotters stood at the ready. I brought the weights down to my chest and pushed them back up with a loud grunt. The assembled audience clapped and cheered in adoration. Bob Costas expressed his disbelief to the home audience, using words too big for sports. Only I heard the snap in my chest.

Okay, so maybe it didn’t happen exactly that way. Mike Adamle was doing the play-by-play. Or maybe it was just that creepy gym guy who says random things until he ropes someone into a conversation. And the dumbbells were only 300 pounds each, maybe 250, definitely no less than 200. Fine, I was doing push-ups… lots and lots of push-ups. Are you happy? There are two details I’m sure of: Nickelback playing and being pissed off about Nickelback playing.

I didn’t really feel the injury when it happened. The workout, though a bit more strenuous than normal, was like any other. My chest was sore the next day, and not in a good way. By that evening I couldn’t lift my arms without shooting pain. Sleeping was near impossible, as laying down was just excruciating. So I watched what seemed like a full season of “That ’70s Show” on Teen Nick. The next day, it hurt just to have my arms hang at my sides. I considered cutting them off at the shoulder. But lifting a machete was too painful. The only comfortable position was sitting upright with my arms on the table or armrests, relieving any pressure on the injury.

I’ve hurt myself before, many times. I’m a boy, have been all my life. And I played lots of sports that involve helmets. But this time was different. I’d rendered myself completely useless. Not only could I not find a full-time job, despite my repeated best efforts, I couldn’t even move. I was officially just taking up space. It was a really bad day, one of the worst of my unemployment.

Prolonged unemployment makes a person feel useless. Take it from someone who knows all too well. When a hundred resumes go out and your phone stays silent, it’s easy to get really down on yourself. I fight this feeling everyday. A lot of my fellow unemployed do too. Please correct me if I’m wrong, if you’ve interviewed all 14.8 million of us and found the vast majority to be confident and well adjusted. I’ll douse my computer in honey and eat it piece by piece, starting with the sharp parts. Mr. Jobs, your name will taunt me no more.

Going to the gym is my outlet, my shield against that overwhelming useless feeling. It gives me a sense of accomplishment. It helps me validate my existence. Look at me, world, err… Jackson Heights, err… other sweaty people in this ugly building on Queens Blvd., I’m good at something! That something is lifting inanimate objects twelve times using proper form. Working out makes me feel good about myself, or at least less bad. And hard work yields visible results, unlike submitting resumes. I’m in pretty good shape for someone who spends too much time at his computer and eats too many cookies. Take away my workouts, and my mental state goes downhill faster than Lindsey Vonn.

The injury, painful though it was, healed pretty quickly. There is some lingering discomfort from something that happened months ago, when I was doing dips with a Volkswagen strapped to my back. But I am otherwise fine. I returned to the gym yesterday and felt good after. I went again today and feel even better. All the soreness is good soreness.

As if somehow connected, things have picked up on the job search front too. Some recruiters recently inquired about my resume and, even better, returned my calls. I have a few quality freelance opportunities, including an exciting month-long gig that starts tomorrow. I know deep down that I’m not useless. And it shouldn’t take a workout or some job search success to remind me. But I’ve been unemployed a long time. And keeping one’s confidence and spirits up is hard work in itself. A little validation helps once in awhile, no matter how it comes about.

• #Dreamhost is killing my website. My server at the hosting company is always down, and so is my website. #
• I’m not sure if #Lost refers to the characters or the viewers. #
• My neighborhood becomes like an urban snow globe during snowstorms. The next day it’s a dirty mess. #
• How a New Jobless Era Will Transfom America. #
• A good friend of mine recently found a #job so the rumors are true. There are jobs out there somewhere. #
• I’m trying to see exactly how much I can do with #LinkedIn #in #

I love a good snow day, even when there’s nothing to stay home from. What kid, or kid at heart, doesn’t? To this day, the news radio chimes make me hope for the words, “Montgomery County schools will be closed today,” no matter the time or season. A snow day is special, a surprise holiday, a day off from my problems. It has a calmness to it. Life stopped late last night and will pick up early tomorrow morning. For now, I’m on snow time.

Queens is blanketed by over a foot of snow. It’s currently coming down sideways. I can see out my window for a couple blocks, beyond the subway tracks to the hospital. The Citigroup and Empire State Building have disappeared into the gray. The streets are empty, aside from the occasional car swishing by. The neon store signs are on, but nobody is out shopping. Everything is muffled, quiet. If only my neighborhood were always this way. If only every day were a snow day.

Around 3:00 this afternoon, I asked wifey via IM how the snow looked from work. Her company is on the second floor and has big windows overlooking the street. She couldn’t tell from her cubicle, and was too busy to go look. She asked me to take some pictures of our neighborhood in the blizzard. This made me think, “I should take some pictures of our neighborhood in the blizzard.” And so I did, from the living room window, on the street and off of the subway platform.

The results probably won’t find their way onto an art gallery wall. But who needs an art gallery when we have the Internet, the world’s biggest and best and worst art gallery? So I present to you the Unemployed Snow Day Photo Exhibition…

[I'll pause here for you to make some hot chocolate and settle in. Those of you in warmer climates can hum the Jeopardy! theme song and imagine Alex Trebek without his toupee.]

Okay, now I present to you the Unemployed Snow Day Photo Exhibition, starring Jackson Heights, some random people of dubious citizenship who probably wouldn’t want their pictures posted online and Snowden S. Snowberry, the star of the show…

The view from my window looks like a snow globe, a really dirty snow globe.

This is Elmhurst Hospital, one of the buildings I’d drive by if I ever needed a hospital.

Imprisoned by unemployment, until someone throws me over the ledge for using really bad symbolism.

I picked the perfect day to play in the street.

The cleanest you’ll ever see Roosevelt Ave.

If you close your eyes, it looks just like Paris, during a blackout.

I have no idea where I took this. I really need to lay off the highballs at breakfast… and lunch.

Who knew there were trees in Queens?

If 7 is a lucky number, why does the train always leave a minute before I get there?

• Watched The Hurt Locker and was reminded of one #job I definitely don't want… bomb technician #
• I emerged from my apartment and saw my shadow, so I guess that means 6 more weeks of #unemployment #
• Listening to yet another #webinar trying to learn more stuff that someone will pay me for. #
• I just figured out after a couple years that the #Digg logo is a man with a shovel. They probably need a better logo. #
• Want to make #friends bring a plug expander to the #coffee shop. #
• I don't know if there's anything funnier than a talking meatball. #athf #

• I love the main reading room at the New York Public Library. But everyone who sits here should have to shower. #
• A wonderful short #movie about being laid off and doing something about it… Lemonade #
• There’s nothing I enjoy quite as much as the soothing sounds of a car alarm caressing my ears. #
• State of the #Union looks like a great aerobic workout for #Congress #
• The #economy is growing so fast that I hadn’t even noticed… U.S. Growth Quickens #
• Those #jobs that left the #economy .. many aren’t coming back… The Growing Underclass: Jobs Gone Forever #
• Should be looking for a #job but laughing at this instead… Selleck Waterfall Sandwich #
• I just saw an ad for #KGB while watching Red Dawn. #
• How to revise your old business card after leaving a job… Cards of Change #

I love how you've decorated your office. This desk is oak, right? (courtesy of http://myesllab.files.wordpress.com)

I had a job interview for an Account Manager position… a very odd job interview. I don’t really know what to make of it. So maybe teasing out my thoughts into an epic blog post, laced with humor and vitriol, will clear things up. What would really clear things up… having this post picked up by a publisher, expanded into a book bought by millions of people and turned into a movie, with the part of Norm, the fearless unemployed blogger, played by George Clooney. Maybe it wouldn’t. And George might not want to endure the months of gym time necessary to fully become the character. But I really think we should try, just to be sure.

I arrived early for my interview. So I stood outside the nondescript downtown office building, scrolling through emails on my phone. A leisurely stroll from the subway, past City Hall and through the neighboring park, didn’t kill enough time. Nor did a quick and depressing stop at the bank machine. But being early is good. It shows eagerness. It shows discipline and drive. It shows that I have nothing better to do.

The company’s office sat at the end of a meandering hallway, next to a sketchy-looking medical office. I walked in to find the receptionist vacuuming around her messy desk. It was jammed into a corner with some boxes and a couple of broken fans. A narrow walkway, lined with shiny metal chairs and blurry pictures of New York City, led to three offices. Had they furnished the space with leftovers from the previous occupant? The place was uninspiring for a marketing company. It was uninspiring for any company.

I asked to use the bathroom, and the receptionist directed me back out of the office to a door marked “Out of Order.” “Ignore the sign,” she explained. “It works.” And technically it did, thanks to copious amounts of duct tape. The bathroom appeared to have exploded recently and been pieced back together by MacGyver. Times are hard even for former television stars. I went about my business quickly, touching only what I had to.

The receptionist handed me a clipboard upon my return. A basic information sheet was attached, along with an interesting questionnaire. It contained 20 or so groupings of four adjectives, with directions to choose which of the four most and least describes me. The purpose was to create a psychological profile and ferret out the people who would excel in a certain role. I’ll make up an example to illustrate…

• Watchful
• Theatric
• Fucoid
• Helpful

I would probably check off “most” for “helpful” or maybe “watchful” and “least” for “fucoid,” since I’m not “of or like seaweed.” But the appropriate answers weren’t always so obvious. Sometimes none of the words applied, leaving me to pick the best of the worst. Sometimes all of them applied, forcing me to pick the “least” tag for something positive and sell myself short.

After completing the application, I was called in to interview. The interviewer’s office was dominated by a huge curtain-less window overlooking Broadway. Sunshine streamed in. Still the room was only slightly less depressing than the waiting area. It contained a desk and a couple more metal chairs. I don’t even remember a computer or any personal effects. The office seemed to belong to no one.

My interviewer was tall, well dressed and barely out of college. Being closer to 40 than 30, I’m increasingly aware of people way younger than me in positions of power. He asked questions as if seeing my resume for the first time. “So… you worked at company X. How was that?” I answered simply, praising the company and the experience of working there. He didn’t really listen. His cellphone rang at one point, and he checked it. After a few stale exchanges, he asked why I was applying for an entry-level job. This was news to me. My rather direct response was that I didn’t know I was. Account Manager isn’t usually an entry-level job. He ceded my point. I ceased to care about the job.

With the interview portion of the meeting out of the way, he launched into his spiel. This is the type of company we are. This is our way of doing business. This is the project we’re hiring for. He’d obviously delivered the words many times and been instructed exactly how to do so. He maintained strong eye contact throughout, as if trying to hold me in place. He leaned slightly forward, as if trying to engage me more. There was a thought-out method to all this.

I listened and tried to figure out the angle. Everything sounded reasonable, sort of like a pyramid scheme does until you actually explore a little. This seemed like a scam, but I couldn’t figure out why. I just knew that I wanted no part of it.

I imagined all the applicants who’d sat exactly where I was sitting. I imagined all the applicants who would sit where I was sitting. I felt stupid and small. Stupid for putting on a suit and dragging my unemployed ass halfway across the city for something I suspected would be a waste of time. Small for not having a choice. Putting up with such nonsense is so frustrating.

He handed me a business card at the end of his little speech. He was a partner. The company would decide quickly who to bring back for a more in-depth interview. I could expect a call as soon as that afternoon. He instructed me to keep my phone line open. I said that I would, though I was really looking forward to actively ignoring the call. I didn’t even get that chance. He never called.