Today marks the two weeks and a weekend since I was told I’d learn in two weeks about my employment status. I reminded my potential-future-employer via email how important this distant promise of future paychecks can be for the unemployed. It is peach season and while the white ones are so delicious, they are at least a dollar more per pound. If I know I have a job by next month, it is an acceptable expense. If not, every dollar counts. What am I to do?
Circumstances at the office have conspired against me, apparently. We have an appointment to talk on Wednesday but he doesn’t promise an answer before the end of the week. He suggested a farmer’s market for at least supporting local growers when I splurge on produce.
I occupy my days with boredom, mentally rehearsing how I will react to whatever the outcome is, and philosophically pondering the word “should.” As in, “What should I do with my days when I have no income, and therefore no value as a human being, and have already detectably depleted my savings?” Should I or should I not buy vodka of a higher grade than Vlad for the vodka tonics that I so enjoy (with limes from a farmer’s market)? Are tables from IKEA in my bedroom necessity items, or should I live on the floor? Should I sleep 18 hours a day and eat only ramen noodles and head lettuce because that’s the least expensive lifestyle I can think of?
As you can imagine, I’m a joy to live with at the moment.