Southern California Job Market : Coping : The Silver Lining : A CIVILIZED GUIDE TO LIFE IN THE VERY, VERY, VERY SLOW LANE

Once you’re over the shock--”I lost my job!”--but before the onset of panic--”I’m gonna starve!”--unemployment can offer a few sacred days of respite from the maelstrom of modern life. In the right frame of mind, you might actually enjoy it.

Remember how harried you were? Remember office politics, dry cleaning and carpal tunnel syndrome? Well, your troubles are over. All you have to do is avoid getting evicted.

The first step is changing your attitude. Don’t think of yourself as jobless or payroll-impaired or even differently employed. Consider yourself instead to be in recovery.

It’s not easy recovering from the trauma of full-time work, but you can do it if you work on your self-esteem and use positive reinforcement.

Day 1: Start by brewing yourself a nice pot of herb tea--who needs coffee now?--and settling in with the newspaper.

Reward: A pat on the back for giving yourself permission to sleep in (don’t stay in bed until 11 every day; depression and headaches will result).

Now read that paper cover to cover. Consider the national economic situation, analyze what’s up (very little) and what’s down (almost everything). Think ahead: Look for burgeoning ‘90s industries that do not entail use of a spatula. Make note of any bargain matinees.

Reward: Doonesbury.

Then peruse the classifieds. Consider all the jobs there are in the world--from pet doctors to advertising copywriters. Is there anything you’ve always wanted to do but never had the time to try? Landing your dream job straight from the classifieds isn’t very likely, but this is still a great exercise to get the gears rolling.

Reward: all the other comics.

Now that your curiosity about unexplored employment alternatives is rising, jump into the car and pop down to the public library.

Here you can read up on companies in the business press. Ask your librarian for help--they know everything. And see if they have a copy of Charles Long’s “How to Survive Without a Salary” (Warwick). You may need it.

Reward: Cruise the magazine racks, stopping for Interview, People and Spy. (Bonus: Schadenfreude. Read up on Princess Di.)

Whew! You’ve been so busy, you missed lunch, but at least your weight is under control. Start thinking about dinner. And tonight? At long last, time for George Eliot.

Day 2: More herb tea, and another newspaper (yes, they come every day). Then, with self-conscious symbolism, you set to cleaning house. But relax. By cleaning, we don’t mean scary tasks like tackling what’s behind the refrigerator or doing the floors and windows.

Instead spend the day running a whirlwind of difficult errands--a new battery for your partner’s old watch, a dental visit before your insurance expires--and thus elicit the gratitude and sympathy of your significant other.

Reward: Sushi dinner and back rub. (In the event of bankruptcy, settle for back rub.)

Day 3: Do something for your inner employee. One spiritual experience that’s always available is rediscovering the contents of your garage, spare room, home office or even dining room table. (Caution: Unpaid bills may lurk.)

For a few therapeutic hours, take each item--each letter, packet of photos, scribbled phone number, workout video, Tweed’s catalogue--and use them to meditate on where you’ve been. Next begins the cathartic part: throwing out, organizing and, best of all, alphabetizing. You computer nuts have an edge here. You can spend hours pruning subdirectories, automating tasks you never knew needed performing, etc.

Reward: a trip to Office Depot, Staples or the equivalent to indulge your office-supply fetish. Just look at all those fresh Manila folders, multicolored Post-Its and overseas envelopes.

Heck, why not splurge on a box of razor-point pens for $7.99? And don’t ignore the symbolism. You no longer have to filch pens from that miserable job you hated: You can get your own stuff! Without dumb corporate logos!

So provisioned, think of beginning a daily journal. This can be a terrific, non-judgmental companion to help you work things through. Once you get past the Kubler-Ross stages (anger, denial, etc.), you can list your accomplishments and abilities. Are any transferable into different kinds of jobs than the one you had? Hmmm.

Day 4: Read the classifieds more seriously, and practice speaking the word “resume” without fear.

By now it’s almost 11, an hour until noon--the perfect, finite period in which to make those dreaded phone calls. This is the tough part of your day; your ego may need bolstering.

Some experts suggest enlarging your sense of yourself by picturing a firm called Me, Inc. Spouse and friends get to be on the board of directors but putting up a plaque is probably going too far. (If you’re unemployed long enough to issue an annual report, you’ve really got troubles.)

OK, no gagging. As president of Me Inc., you might want to wear a necktie or business dress while phoning; it’s supposed to help.

Anyway, just get your calls done, make them professionally, and do it regularly at this time of day.

Around 11 is good--people are generally in by then. By the time you finish, you’re swelling with a sense of accomplishment.

Reward: Lunch. (Avoid eating this standing over the sink.)

Soap operas await but snap off that TV by early afternoon, lest you find yourself caught in a downward spiral of game shows and “Gilligan’s Island.”

After your hard morning, you might want to tend the vegetable garden. Even if you don’t have a yard, Martha Stewart’s got nothing on you; chervil grows in window boxes. While some believe California’s business climate is chilly, things like tomatoes do fabulously.

Day 5: Letters. Imagine the feeling next week when you consider how much discipline you showed in writing to prospective employers on a Friday instead of starting an early weekend at the beach.

Then hit the bookstore, which is often better than the library in the all-important self-help category. Just look at the cornucopia of inspiration available, from chestnuts such as “What Color Is Your Parachute?” to the awesomely optimistic “Do What You Love, the Money Will Follow.”

What a hectic day. But don’t stop now! On to the gym, vigorous exercise being a proven mood-booster. Then you can scream up the driveway at 6 for your spouse and children to find you freshly pumped, showered and energized.

What a week. You haven’t even had time to sign up for unemployment benefits, make several useless trips to the hardware store or spend quality time with the dog.

Too late. By now you’re tanned, rested and ready. You couldn’t avoid employment if you tried.