A friend who was laid off at the same time called today. First he asked how I was holding up, then said he'd had a thought. I thought his thought would relate to job hunting, or Ramen noodle recipes, or recycling old lunches or how we could sneak into corporate break rooms and raid them for food for our children, but he said he thought I should get a doctor's note to shop as therapy. Brilliant.
I couldn't agree more. What kind of doctor is going to give me the note? Shrink? Physician? Chiropractor? They would probably agree that regardless of some random commitment I made to the blogosphere, that job loss constitutes a reason for SOME type of retail therapy. In the past I would have used any excuse to shop. Bummed- I need a new t-shirt. Call from the cops at midnight to pick up my teenage son- gosh a new pair of jeans sounds just like the "ticket". Stubbed toe- shoes. Broken nail- handbag! And on, and on, and on.
But as much as I'd like to get behind the concept, I'm pretty stubborn and since it has been 59!! days since I've shopped, I'm not about to break down like a weakling and have to start over because of something as minor as LOSING MY JOB.
I'm kidding there, because it really is quiet jolting. This is only the second time in my life I've been terminated, unfortunately they both happened within two years of each other. It stinks a foul stench. Am I losing my edge, picking the wrong companies, short sighted, blind? Ah, rhetorical questions with no answer. I hate those.
It continues to be so weird to be unemployed. I'm as hard working as they come and all this free time is aggravating. The sun is shining and my basement is a wreck, having been destroyed by too much time on my hands.
Note: The sun has gone down, the basement is worse, but I painted a wall and the beautiful blue cornflower color is making me happy.
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