My Day

Well, I've been unemployed for three days. So far, I haven't gotten much done. According to What Color is Your Parachute, I'm allowed to sleep, apply for unemployment and check on my medical coverage in the first throes of unemployment, and that's it!

Check, check and check.

In the "absolute proof that God has a sense of humor" column, the lady handling my unemployment claim is a big Lipstick fan. She even had the February issue on her desk and verified my old position by checking the masthead.

Sigh.

Other than that, I've spent most of my time watching Law & Order, tinkering (successfully) with my washer/dryer connection and ordering weight loss drugs online. (Hey, if I'm going to be out of a job, I might as well be thin, too. Plus, hopefully I'll save money on grocery bills this way. It's time to ration, and a smaller stomach would make that much simpler.)

Truth be told, I want to take some time to figure out what I really want to do next. Life is short, after all, and I want to give my dreams my all, and yadda, yadda, yadda. While I know this is best for me, when I'm home during the day it's really hard for me to get the mental image of Goldie Hawn from Death Becomes Her out of my head. Not the svelte, gorgeous Goldie Hawn, but the obese one watching game shows, eating frosting from the tub and ignoring the police trying to fight their way into her apartment.

Double sigh.