Tales of the Unemployed

Perhaps if I were lyrical, I could compose a poem of incredible eloquence, subtlety and beauty. A poem that would be moving and deep, and express in the most musical way what it is like to be unemployed. Unfortunately, I've never been that good at writing poems that are all of these things, and still rhyme. Fortunately for you, I'm aware that I can't write a poem to save my life, so I won't try.

I've been without a job for almost a full month now and in that time I've made the following observations:

1.) Housewives with no kids are either incredibly lazy or bored out of their minds
2.) If I rationalize enough, I won't have to clean and organize the back closet
3.) My husband and I don't create enough dirty laundry for me to wash it once a week
4.) But doing the laundry gives me a purpose so I wash our meager amount of clothes regularly and call it an accomplishment
5.) I don't have to shower every day
6.) But I do anyway. Again, an accomplishment

There are many other observations of equally deep natures that I could share with you. But I don't want to overload anyone's cerebrum with too much philosophical thinking in one post.


I've applied for positions left and right, had a couple interviews, and am waiting to hear back for a couple more potential interviews. In the meantime, I've been bored a lot. I've read 4 books in the last 2 days, surfed every remotely interesting internet site, and watched almost 5 seasons of "Mythbusters."

Every now and then, I've emerged from my cave of an apartment to consort with the outside world. Last Friday, for example I embarked on an afternoon with two girl-friends, Whitney and Aaron (yes, that is the correct spelling, and she is a girl). Aaron brought her too-cute-to-be-true 4 month old son, Noah. And I brought my camera.



Whitney.


Aaron.


Noah. The big cutie.

We went on a drive to Philipsburg, a 1800's mining town. We had lunch in the cute little restaurant/soda fountain that has been around pretty much as long has the town has. Then we enjoyed the sapphire and gem store, and rounded the day out at the Sweet Palace. Very appropriately named.











 
 Fudge! Beautiful fudge! And free samples! What a glorious thing. Aaron and Whitney both went home with half a pound each of favorite flavors, but I abstained. I would like to say it is because I had the will power to turn down such a fattening, high-calorie treat, but in reality, I'd already spent the money I was allowed on lunch and even though it would be a tasty over-purchase, I knew I had to be content with nothing. So I mooched samples off of Aaron and Whitney instead.

Peace, Love and Sugar-comas.