Okay, so here's the problem with blogging: sometimes what I want to write about is, well . . . dull. Sometimes a wee little bit with the crazy, even.
For instance, on Monday I started out wanting to write about how great all my courthouse friends are (since I had drinks with many of them on Friday) and how I REFUSE to let the fact that we no longer work together weaken our friendships and how the courthouse was like a safe haven for me, etc., etc., and WAAAAAAAH, I WANT MY JOB BACK!!!
Yeah, so that's an example of the crazy.
Then, on Tuesday, I wanted to write about unhappy I was that my new favorite yoga class was cancelled AFTER I got there, and how tasty avocado is on top of black bean chili, and how difficult it is to decide on prices for my jewlery, and how I discovered tomato gravy is actually a deep South dish, not German as my in-laws had led me to believe.
On the off chance that you're still awake, that's an example of the dull.
So, the unemployment, it is weird. The extreme quiet of my house lulls me into an almost trance-like state -- not entirely unpleasant, just a strange change from the hyper-stimulating courthouse world I am used to. I find myself drifting from activity to activity, staring off into space, daydreaming and wondering how this is all going to turn out.
It's strange to think that in some amount of time, oh, let's say a year from now, the joblessness of my life will likely be over, and I'll have a regular routine again, and people that I see every day, and a place that I stick my lunch when I get there in the morning, and some kind of work story to tell in the evening. But right now, I have NO IDEA what or who or where those things will be.
Right now, it's just me, and the dogs, and a cat, and a lot of wishful thinking.