I lost my job last week, and I miss it. Well, that’s not entirely true; my job was something of a clusterfuck, and the company I worked for was the Walmart of the industry. I miss my field, though. I heard someone on a TV show mention an unusual diagnosis, and I got a little pang. I’m hopeful that I’ll find something else in the field soon.
In the meantime, though, I’ve discovered something shocking; I’m not nearly as lazy as I like to think I am. This is breaking news to me, because it seemed like I spent at least 50% of my work hours wishing I was taking a nap, fantasizing about all the nothing I could be doing at a given moment, and planning weekends filled with glorious idleness. Today marks 1 week jobless, and I’m going spare over here. It seems a body can only stalk Facebook, make lyrics videos, listen to music and nap so much before it loses its charm. I need to be doing something.
That’s another thing that has come as a bit of a shock. I’m not nearly as good at sitting around as I thought. I was sitting around on Facebook and my ass yesterday, and realized I needed to go clean something. Quelle horreur! I, voluntarily doing housework?!
Don’t get me wrong; I’m delighted to find out I’m not quite as worthless as previously imagined. They say job loss is a time for self-reevaluation. I guess I’ll have to cross “full-time hedonist” off my list of ambitions.