It’s been some time since I’ve published anything here and the release of Monochromes Vol. 2 by Tu M’ has inspired me to think about, outline, and write about my life recently. A much younger version of myself wrote about their 2009 LP in 2015 here, which is now closer to that album’s release than we are to it. Time is curious and fickle.

Earlier this year, I parted ways with my employer of nine years, a Fortune 500 transportation company. Reflecting back on my college self, I remember being anxious about finding a job after graduation. My sister helped me design a resume with my limited work experience so I could attend the career fair in my final semester. I put myself out there and talked to every company I could, even if just to say hello, here’s my resume, I’d be interested in working for you. I gave out 50+ copies of my resume and didn’t have one left by the end. I left with a backpack full of opportunities, inspiration, and, for the first time in my life, optimism about starting my career. I can remember the snow on the ground as I left the building. It had mostly turned to slush, each courageous step a reminder that life’s ice does melt. The sky was curiously monochromatic, as though Mother Nature had a limited color palette to choose from that day, and she chose gray. The glaucous jacket I wore every day during cold weather blended right in, a fitting trait for someone like me. The cold was sharp on my hands as I started my car but never seeped through my jacket. My car didn’t fully heat up until I got home. I promised myself that whatever company called me back first would be the company I worked for, and so it was.

I don’t want to outline all the banal nuances corporate America has to offer, but vocalizing some of my experience helps me to process, so here goes. I was scared my first few months. The work was difficult, busy, and I was often unable to keep up. Somebody who was hired the same week as I was fired for poor performance. Five months into the job, my mom’s parents and aunt were all killed in a car accident in North Carolina, for which I was granted a single day off. This forced me to fly separately from my family and return to work on a Tuesday morning at 7am, just hours after my return flight had landed. I broke down crying in my car after work the next day. Hindsight is always telling, and this was the biggest signal to leave. After nearly two years in the role, I was told my financial performance wasn’t up to par and I needed to look internally for a new job or be let go from the company. I took a role on a nighttime position making significantly less money though the work was much less stressful. I remember being so scared of telling my girlfriend at the time that news. I was worried she’d be disappointed in my work ethic and end our relationship over it. It turned out to be no big deal and she was happy I was in a better spot, barring the night schedule. Eventually I was promoted multiple times within that role, transferred to day shift, and worked my way up a little bit. I learned to network better, made some friends, and felt more driven than I ever had. In 2019 I left that role to move to a more analytical role, where many of the company’s hierarchical shortcomings were further exposed. COVID-19 hit in 2020 and the majority of my first year within the new role was spent working from home. Like so many others, the company tried to coax and wrangle as many employees as they could back into the office, health consequences be damned. What were recommendations turned into requirements and eventually everyone was piled up again, told to be thankful for the morsel of sympathy bestowed upon us: a single day off per week. There’s thousands of other bothersome interactions that lurk in my head from time to time, but that one always bothered me. My job could be completed from home and had little to no in-office synergies with my peers. What benefit is gained from a rigid office schedule? I guess it isn’t worth considering, and certainly wasn’t worth fighting against, but was perhaps the final straw of my tolerance.

Being unemployed has been an interesting experience. I told myself the first few weeks that I would take it easy, regain my footing, and properly reset. I did not know if it would take weeks or months. Turns out it took about six months before I found myself mentally capable of updating my resume and dutifully applying for jobs. I still haven’t found work though I’m optimistic I will soon, and ready to contribute to a better work culture. I’d like to say that my period of unemployment is littered with moments of deep joy and self-discovery, but deep down it hasn’t been. Days, weeks, and months have all blurred together and barring a few trips, concerts, and shows, it’s all a bit hazy, though I’ve grown a lot closer to my parents, and my mom especially. There comes an important time in everyone’s life where they stop seeing their parents as parents and start seeing them as people, or friends. My dad and I used to play golf each weekend and as soon as I started working we instantly had something to relate to. The same bridge was impassable for my mom and I, as she had been out of work since the 70s. Recently she’s needed me to drive her back and forth from the hospital for eye injections, and she’s opened up more about her life: her relationship with my sisters and I, her temporary separation from my dad when I was in high school, and at times offering me a glimpse of the world before I was a part of it. For the first time, I finally see my mom as my friend.

I don’t have much else to say about life recently. It’s marching onward, as it does. Reviewing my last.fm account, Monochromes Vol. 1 is my third-most played album of all-time with 7,347 plays at the time of this post. It has been a mainstay in my music catalogue for the better part of a decade and has aged like wine. My sentiments are similar for Vol. 2. I understand the word “ethereal” gets thrown around too often with ambient, but if I only got to use it once, I’d use it here. It is a dense fog with low visibility. It is the feeling between shutting your eyes at night and opening them in the morning. It’s the vast nothingness between celestial bodies. The experience can’t be held, seen, and words are an oft-failed justiciar. These feelings resonate deeply with my life right now, in ways I will one day commit to more words.