First day of joblessness. One can say that my contract ended, with the potential to be contacted in the indeterminate future. That's fine, it was a good run. I loved that job and I knew it was too good to last. I'm grateful to have experienced it at all.
So what now? Now I have no excuse not to hold up my end of the household chores, where before at least I was the money-earner. When Rebecca's contract with Target ended, I was pleased to give her a little vacation to relax, explore her creativity, play video games, &c., and the change it had on her personality was profound. We laughed more, we made love more, we made a bold start on those homemade holiday cards we'll be sending out this year. It was a good time, good because it was effortless: any good now will be the result of a lot of work.
I did a load of dishes, listening to Daniel Gilbert's Stumbling on Happiness, a cute little treatise upon the priorities people impose upon their lives and from whence true happiness derives. Probably a lot of bullshit but you have to meet these things halfway, make a good faith effort, all that rot. I'm also listening to NPR's Planet Money more frequently, and it helps make sense of the dire financial straits our corporate-driven government has imbued our nation with. I finished UC Berkeley's Rhetoric 10 and miss the intellectual challenge it presented. I really felt like some atrophied limb was revitalized with blood flow and exercise, and now that's done and gone like the position that paid me to correct commas and stocked beer in the fridge.
I've measured all the windows in the apartment and will walk down to the local hardware store to purchase quantities of plastic and double-sided tape, an annual MN tradition in which I'm proud to partake. Few things impart a truly palpable sense of accomplishment like weather-proofing your home. I'll also finish up the holiday cards, previously mentioned: one more stencil to generate for the Print Gocco and the backs will be done. After a tremendous amount of assembly, including creating some envelopes, they will be ready for distribution and that'll feel good.
I can see Toki's anxious to play. He's been hauling his feather-on-a-stick toy around from room to room and yowling. He has several meows/yowls, scientists have proven this, and he's choosing the one that means expectations are not being met. It's quite a different sound from demanding to be fed, which is closer to a baby's cry and evokes a surprisingly urgent caretaking response in us. It's much harder to ignore than "play with me."
Really, any time you want me to ramble on for far too long about the minutiae of living with cats, just say the word. I'm more than prepared to extrapolate at length upon the subject.