I've lasted 256 days without a job.
Food and supplies are getting low, the raft has taken on some bilge water
(are you calling me fat?), however I've sighted
I must confess, there's a part of me that really loved being unemployed.
I got to hang out with my wife a lot, I did a bunch of cool things with
the band and with my acting "career" (some of which actually generated
some money and restored some of my faith in the artistic process... and
Sleeping in is always a plus, pretending I'm a retired-at-26 software
magnate spending the day on my computer in a coffee shop - you know, the
I got to drink on Sunday nights, which I may or may not miss. I'm a big
fan of booze, but there's only so much sympathy your friends can spare
when they announce they have to get up early next day while you casually
order another round. To quote the band Primus (speaking of college and
other days of carefree drinking):
"Funny thing about weekends when you're unemployed/They don't mean quite
so much/'cept that you get to hang out with your working friends."
Mostly though, I'm pretty relieved. It's a good job that I held out for,
perhaps even loaded all my eggs into one basket for. I'll be working for
good instead of evil, alongside other creative-minded types in a field
that will afford me training, resume fodder and (eventually) some good
money. And there's really only so much sleeping-in I can do.
So I bid unemployment a bittersweet farewell again, possibly for the last
time in a long time. Time to re-set the snooze alarm.