I disappeared yesterday.
I have no idea where I went.
I'm sitting here this morning, drinking my orange juice, trying to figure out what it was that I spent my time doing on Monday.
Dishes. Check. Make laundry soap. Check. Read books. Check.
The rest is lost in a black hole.
Incidentally, did you know that drug dealers are now stealing Tide laundry soap from grocery stores and selling it on the black market because laundry soap is so expensive that there is a market for it these days? True story.
Also I think I over-watered mine.
But my point being . . . no idea where that day went. And let me tell you, that's an odd feeling.
There are some days where I am grateful for my unemployed-ness. (see: having a cold so bad I think I'm dying.) Moments like those make me appreciate the fact that I can simply take however long a cold needs to rest, hydrate, and sneeze out whatever is in me. Ew.
But a lot of the time I sit there wondering if people must think I'm the laziest bastard in the world.
Let me just say, I admit I can be lazy. Not much could make me happier than to throw on some sweats and curl up with a movie or a book. Who needs hobbies?
But seriously, I hate that feeling of lack of purpose.
Also, what is the appropriate amount of time you can get away with the "I don't know what I want to do" gameplan?
Oh the woes of the unemployed.
At least I have time to make laundry soap and bean-less chilli.
And all is good in the world once again.