Your Unemployed Daughter

photo credit: notanartist

I used to think silence might be golden, or at least enjoyable, especially in an airplane or crowded elevator.

But when you’re all by yourself in your apartment and all of your friends are afraid to come near and catch your germs—and you can’t even speak to them on the phone because, really, you can’t speak at all, except to quietly try saying “Hello” to yourself now and again to test out your voice, but despite countless mugs of Ginger Honey Throat tea you got nuthin’—well, that silence is actually not golden. I’d call it rusty tin-cannish, maybe, or cubic zirconium-infused, but not golden.

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photo credit: The Old Adalie Plain

Holly jolly ho ho ho!

I can’t believe it’s December, much less a week (nay, 6 days) from when I board JetBlue flight TKTK and head to Florida to celebrate the reason for the season with my Occasionally Working Mother, Soon-to-be-Reemployed Father, Cognitive Neuroscientist Brother, and Self-Employed Sis-in-Law-to-Be.

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photo credit: KayVee.INC
Think your layoff was bad? What if you had to leave the country? What if it happened twice? Guest blogger and all-around fabulous guy “Tony” (who really did not deserve what happened to him, btw, but is doing just fine now, thank you for asking) gives all of us whingers a little perspective …

I GOT LAID OFF. BLOODY HELL

It is New Year’s Day 2009. My gorgeous, hilarious, darling girlfriend
of 18 months is wandering around my apartment wearing knickers (hers)
and a 15-year-old grey hoodie (mine). She looks amazing. I make her a
cup of tea. We sit on the couch and I think about where to take her
for brunch.

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