I've never really considered the option of not working as an option before. That is to say, if one were to propose to me that I took 4 weeks off from earning money and just sat around the apartment, occasionally tidying, and sometimes leaving for a walk around New York, I would have said something along the lines of "What the fuck are you smoking?".
Yet, when I consider this reaction, it's as far from my idealistic reverie as I could imagine. I should imagine furthermore that most people aspire to such a thing. If I were to list my primary aim in life, it would no doubt be to have all the free time (and money, of course, because I don't want to do this in a small stone shack in rural France) that I wanted to do merely those things that struck me as interesting at the time. When I was a small child (as opposed to the larger and more petulant one I have become) my ideal job was nothing more than "Millionaire", so at least in one thing in life (my unerring lackadaisical leaning) I have been consistent.
And so it is that unemployment has tiptoed upon me and wrapped its fingers over my eyes with a grunt of "guess who" for accompaniment. I have not worked now since September 10th, and I'm sure that I
should find something to do, but I can't be arsed for some reason. True, I spent 3 weeks in Slovenia visiting my mother, and have only really spent one week here "readjusting" (a term of which my wife has had quite enough already) with no real end in sight before the takeover of my erstwhile employers is finalized. I did update my resume today, but I didn't send it to anyone.
Truth is, I find myself in something of a mid-life crisis. The very thing that I ridiculed
Phil for a few years ago (both to his face and behind his back, a turn of phrase which he incidentally finds impossible to unravel, behind his back being in front of him as far as he can see). My career is dull as ditch water. GIS work is enough to crush the soul of the most enthusiastic lobotomee around. But I'm not much good at anything else. Should I get a motorcycle to reintroduce some energy (or at least colour) to my loins? Perhaps I should bleach my hair blonde? How about an earring? In the meantime I have taken up mild smoking again. I know! I'll join an acting troup. But this couch seems quite comfortable, and doesn't demand any particular method from me...
Honestly, I feel that I should take a month off to cut down trees, or club seals, or perhaps fish the North Atlantic. Perhaps I could deliver crates of Coors Piss Lite to dumb bastards across the North East of America. To be honest, all I really want to do is sell Cockerchiefs, Cast'n'blasts and Mr. Shit-For-Brains through
www.youfuckingcunt.com, but even such minor effort for such great reward seems like a rather poor return.
I know! I'll have another drink and pass out. It's been a whole day after all.
