Recess in the Recession: Naptime

One of the many things I couldn't do at 3:45 in the afternoon at work was watch my daughter sleep as I typed away. Also, my lunch cost about $1.07 -- which always could have been the case if I hadn't been so lazy in the mornings that I couldn't throw an orange, some pretzels and a burrito from Costco into a bag.

Nikole and I experimented with timeshare today, in that we each took some time with Thea so the other could get some work done. Sort of like we do at night, except we're slightly less exhausted.

I did the grocery shopping early this morning, foolishly thinking it would be faster at 7:30 a.m. Wrong. The stores are staffed light, half the produce isn't on the shelf and dozens of old people are swarming the discount racks and meandering slowly down the center of every aisle. I did run into a good friend of Nikole's, though it literally took me four seconds to connect her face with the environment -- I think I'm used to seeing her at weddings and children's birthday parties.

I spent the rest of the morning replying to emails, applying for a few jobs, updating my LinkedIn profile, mulling story ideas, editing several poems for an upcoming contest, and posting a few brief items on Buttermilk & Molasses. This afternoon, Thea and I took Rilo for a booster shot. Shortly, I'm off to cover the Richmond Region Cultural Action Plan for Buttermilk & Molasses.

Comments

[Pauline]

Oddly enough, you'll look back at this unemployed time as a period in your life that you were most relaxed and creative, and when the spinning stops, you may very well find yourself headed in a new exciting direction that you would never have found otherwise. I know that was the case with me. I was "home" or working part-time at silly places with big gaps between jobs, from 1990-96! And it's amazing how little you can live on if you only buy what you need, not what you want.