Another way to look at unemployment is not that I have lost a job and have no income, but that I have been given the gift of Blog. Now I can Blog again.
So, here is my first "Day After" post on being unemployed.
I went to weigh in my son's pinewood derby car last night for the big Cub Scout event. It must be 5 oz. And you'll never guess what number we got. Thirteen! 13, the same as yesterday's date. The date of my termination. Is this a sign? %$#@! no. Just a freaky coincidence. No, I think it is a sign. The guy registering the cars, recognizing the number's superstitious baggage, actually asked me if I minded having that number. I gave him a roundhouse kick ala Chuck Norris.
Up early this morning, talking with significant other about health plans. Maybe I should let my ponytail grow back. I have to leave and make my son's lunch. Cut the crusts off, etc. Give them to Otty in his breakfast.
Oops. Time to wake up the boy.
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2 comments:
I've said it before, but it bears repeating now: anyone who would let someone as talented and driven as you go is a fool. Perhaps with Wilhelmina up for the big gig you'll have a chance to strike out on your own. I find out in the next day or two if I'm still employed. Worse part is that I don't even know if I want the job any longer. But, as my other half Bruno says, it is a job. Put that way -- sign me up!
Damn.
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