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As scribbled in mini notebooks. - December 2005 It snowed today! It started just moments after I woke up. It was beautiful, and outside my window, the City magically lost the ability to drive. I got dressed and met Charlie for lunch: Thai, his treat. The restaurant was a little stingy with the chicken, but the food was good and the company was excellent. After Charlie went back to work for his 1:30 meeting, I walked 2 blocks to the bank and cashed my last paycheck, my city paycheck, and my first unemployment check. It should probably depress me that between the three of them I had $717. Heh. Strolled to a used bookstore--the kind with cats. There was a very friendly slinky black short-hair, and an ultra-sleek, ruddy feline of at least half-Abyssinian extraction. The bookstore was practically deserted due to the snow, so the cats were bored and friendly. I was in heaven. I told the bearded, bespectacled proprietor that I've missed the company of cats and he said "Well, you can come on by any time." The superfluous quality of his welcome was strictly charming. I walked around the bookstore for 90 minutes, then to a drugstore, where I made the egregious social error of dithering aloud over whether I should treat myself to a bus pass. It is a legitimate debate--I am within walking distance of the pool, the bank, grocery stores. To the simpering woman behind the counter, the idea of a bus pass as a treat was incomprehensible. So it has come to this--I am now being mocked for my thrift by drugstore employees. Well, I hope it made her day. Also, I hope a homeless man took a whiz in her section after I left. We're all in it together, sister.
How did it get to be December 10th? Jesus H. Christ. ...Attended a mandatory Unemployment Resource meeting. Everyone there looked emotionally scarred by the very act of having to be there, myself included. A man way too old for me kept sneaking looks at me from across the aisle. The meeting leader, a personable Cliff Huxtable type complete with Dad Cardigan, walked in at the top of the hour, took one look at the lot of us and said "Oh, come on, folks...it's not that bad." There was a collective giggle. Apparently there are more resources than I've imagined. There is a class on Interviewing that I want to take--I don't know what my worst (admissable) quality is, I don't know what kinds of questions are asked in job interviews these days, and I don't know if wearing a suit is Too Much or de rigueur. I wore a suit to my last 3 job interviews and got the job each time--statistically significant, or spurious observation? Anyway. Am dragging, these days. Uncertain. Not crying anymore, but not applying myself, either. I'm picking up some extra work at the pools, which is good. I'm more sensitive than usual though--a patron was being a true asshole tonight, and I entertained all sorts of fantasies of kicking him in the teeth. I am comforted by the fact that he periodically gives everyone a hard time; at least it's not personal. The fool prefaces everything he says with "I'm an engineer, and..." before launching into melodramatic complaints and asking for favors. Always the same complaints, too. He apparently hates the way the pool is run, but he's there every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. I think he is a deeply unhappy person and doesn't know how to maintain friendships, because after a bout of assholery he appears contrite and awkward the next time he turns up, and asks silly questions as a way of assessing the mood of the pool staff. I feel sorry for him...but I also like knowing that I'm encouraged to call the police if he interferes with the completion of my duties. So the fantasy of calling the police alternates with the teeth-kicking daydream.
I forgot to apply for unemployment last week. Oops. I think it is a reflection on my lack of enthusiasm for this state of being. I am not eligible to have my health insurance extended. I feel richer already. My insurance was horribly expensive. Planned Parenthood came through with 13 months worth of pills for me. Wow. Bless them. Hundreds of dollars' worth of birth control. They would have cost me a steep $37 per month otherwise, uninsured.
Alex was wearing a very thin coat in freezing temperatures, and had failed to eat most of the day...but more to the point, he felt humiliated that the party was difficult to find without a car to help navigate. I had encouraged him to wait before buying a car (after the last one caught on fire) since he still has extensive student loans to pay off , but he bitches like a child when the city's transportation fails him or us. Sometimes I wonder if someone hurt him as a child, because when he's really angry he sort of melts down like a four-year-old. It happens maybe once or twice a year. He'd gone quite a while without. I'm never afraid of him; he's never raged at me, but it is most unpleasant to witness. He doesn't appear to register that I am there at all when it happens--appropriate, since it's the sort of thing one should do alone, like breaking plates or punching a bag. It is his worst flaw. He cannot or will not process hurt or sadness or depression or humiliation; it just comes out as ranting and raving. It's appears to be an old habit that no one has ever forced him to handle better. Sometimes I think it will be the death of us. Or him--Alex's father has heart problems, and rage is terrible for the heart. I already know I can't share a home with someone who does this. He'll have to have therapy if we're ever to share a place or get married.
The buffet was nice, though. Sometimes I think I'm destined to be an old cat lady. Ah well. I shall hire a pool boy.
Did my first bit of Christmas shopping today--for Aunt Janet, appropriately. I have had so much time on my hands that I actually kept putting off my holiday shopping. "I've got time," I kept thinking. True--but I have carried things to extremes. I mailed some enlargements of wonderful photos I'd snapped of Janet and her dog at the beach. I had managed to look casual while taking the pictures, but it was a deadly serious business to me--the dog was hit by a car earlier in the year, and went on the lam in the confusion. His size and youth preserved him until he was located, and he has recovered well, but it seemed urgent that I do my part to preserve him. I paid special attention to composing the shots. I've always been a good photographer. Perhaps I should take a darkroom course, learn the lingo, buy a fancy-looking camera to inspire confidence in all who see it (a Canon Sure Shot with a zoom is surely not inspiring) and hire myself out. Hm.
I don't really want the job, but--combined with my present hours--it would be enough to get me off of Unemployment, and I would have gym privileges (O, trespass sweetly urged). I'm also thinking it could be good to have some stupid day job so that I could, oh, work on a novel or something. That would be good. The only thing more difficult than writing is not writing.
I'm not sure what made me brave or foolish enough to venture downtown at Christmas time at rush hour. The bus I'm on is presently moving less than a foot per minute. Haha--just caught myself thinking "At least I'm not employed!" (My time would be a rarer commodity). Am presently reading Anne Lamott's Bird by Bird, a book on writing. It's encouraging and sometimes funny.
My fucking computer is broken. It was about 7 years old, so this is not completely unexpected, but I feel more isolated than ever. What a time for my computer to fry. I need it desperately to look for jobs. So far, the most interesting jobs have come to light when I look online at companies I am interested in, rather than from going to job sites. (Not that this technique has presently helped me land even an interview). I guess I'll have to use Alex's computer while he's at work. Hopefully he will clear away any incriminating visits to porn sites. I don't mind the latter; I just don't want to know about it. I have made lunch plans with Charlie for tomorrow. My treat, for his Hannukah present. My local department store source for Christmas trees has been sold out for 4 days. The hell?
Woke up feeling strangely optimistic, put on eyeliner with malice aforethought, and walked two blocks to a notoriously overpriced Christmas Tree outlet I usually avoid. They don't hang price tags on the trees, or post a price range relating to variety and height, which I find obnoxious. They enjoy making up prices on the spot, based on the appearance of the buyer and the buyer's ride. At the beginning of the season they'll charge $50 for a 5 foot tree.
There were 3 decent possibilities, not too thick yet strangely insubstantial (as many Douglas Firs are) nor too sparse (Noble Firs). I found something nicely in-between, six feet tall. I wasn't sure what variety it was. I sniffed the branches; touched the pine needles. Fresh. "How much for this one?" "Thirty-five plus tax...thirty nine and change." "Hm." Wandered around for a few more minutes, being pokey and casual. Finally I returned to the tree I wanted.
"Well...." he said, making an obligatory protest. "You don't even need to net it up for me, or tie it down to a car. All I need is a fresh cut off the bottom." "Oh, it's no trouble," he said, looking alarmed that I would decline even the most basic of civilized things. "What do you say to thirty and tax?" There was a pause. "Only 'cause you're so nice," he said, with a grudging smile. Victory!
I laughed into the branches as I carried the tree, thinking about how I must have looked, schlepping a bushy behemoth 7 inches longer than I am tall.
But I was so proud of myself, not only for haggling but for wrestling the damned thing home.
He told me he's thinking of dropping his high-paying tech career to be a teacher, as he's currently volunteering as an early morning science tutor, and finds it quite rewarding. He asked me for my advice on how to approach the parents of one of his students, who could use speech therapy. As a teacher in my own small way, I realized I had something to say on the delicate subject and how to go about it. It was totally unexpected, but we ended up talking shop.
I don't think I ever would have treated myself to something new and fabulous without Charlie's knowledge and encouragement. He is the devil on my shoulder, and sometimes a little devilishness is just what I need. I love my new computer. I can apply for jobs on websites with demanding requirements, read any site without difficulty, and goof off, ten times easier. And there is at least one application I've never even heard of. (Exotic!) I feel both connected and freed at the same time. It's wonderful... When I got home, there was a message from the athletic club--they had totally bungled the interview scheduling process and were very sorry, would I like to try again? It's wasn't like getting a call from the University, but at least I found out what happened and am not as bad a pariah as imagined. It was a joyful day.
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