Sunday, January 6, 2008

What would you do if you had no job?

The Met on Friday.

I used to fantasize about this question when I did have a job. I can certainly remember sitting in meetings and conference calls, looking out the window at sprawling Central Park, and wondering to myself, "Why am I here and not there?"

And now that I am "there" I feel like I have not been taking advantage of my no job status. I have been back for three weeks. And the last three weeks have been mostly busy doing things I did not fantasize about when I was sitting in the office. Week one was spent dealing with New York madness, Christmas shopping and card writing and cookie baking. Week two was spent having Christmas and catching up with my mom in New Jersey. Week three was packing and moving and unpacking. Not bad ways to spend my time, but minus time with my family, it all feels a little errand-y and not too interesting.

Now it's week four. And now it's time to get hardcore. Not only get serious about my job search but also start rebuilding my life in New York. Re-introduce myself to Central Park and the elliptical machine. Start cooking and baking. Start seeing my friends again. Pursue my writing ambitions. And I may feel a little insecure without a job (I do spend at least a few minutes each day having a minor freak out) but I am going have to start taking advantage of these days off because I know (or least everyone is reassuring me) that these days will soon pass me by.

This weekend was filled with much needed socializing after a week of boxes. First, I met my fellow in-between jobs friend, Hila, to check out the
new photography exhibit at the Met. Now this is something I would think about when I was sitting in my cubicle. I usually always hand over the "recommended" $20 admission, but this time, I plunked down $5. Hey, I am unemployed. Hila gave them $1 in coins. "Art should be free to the public," she declared. I admired her stance. The photography exhibit was only one room, and we only stayed an hour, taking in some European realist paintings, too. By the way, Hila is a great person to take to an art museum. She's pretty insightful, talking about the paintings as if she's seen them a million times and she personally knows the artists.

I went home and poked around a little bit and fell asleep. It must have been a deep sleep because I did not hear Dan calling my cell phone or banging on the door (we only have one set of keys at this point). He had to get the super to open the door for him, and when he came inside and saw me sleeping, he yelled at me, "What happened to you?" I think he was so worried that something bad happened to me that when he saw that I was more than okay, he just got mad. Meanwhile, I was in such a sleepy state, I could barely process what he was saying to me. "I feel like a space zombie," I finally uttered, happy to make a sentence in my groggy state of mine. After a few minutes, my head cleared and we were able to laugh about it.

We headed to the Upper West Side for some dinner with the Jacksons at Community Food and Juice--yes, that is the restaurant's name--which specializes in organic foods. It was tasty, but a little pricey, but we had fun asking the waiter a hundred questions "What kind of bun is on the hamburger?" Dan asked with all seriousness. Brett got a giant red bloody steak that turned him into a mellow cat for the rest of the night.
And then we went on a huge tangent of dissecting Dan's "low-carb" diet he did when I was away. Bagel for breakfast, chicken and potatoes for lunch, pistachios for dinner? Hmmm...not very healthy, not very low-carb.

Dan explains low-carb diets to the rest of us...

I don't buy his story...

Emily, a doctor, says that Dan's low-carb diet is bull. Brett is still thinking about his steak.

Saturday, Dan and I were in apartment shopping mode but couldn't get our act together until the afternoon, where we dragged ourselves through The Container Store and Bed, Bath & Beyond. Dan became obsessed with a $169 trash can at The Container Store that flipped open to reveal a space for regular waste and recyclables. We had to admire the great design for about 10 minutes, but it was too expensive and didn't fit in the space, so it was not meant to be. That evening, we went to see the movie, Juno, which just might be my favorite movie of the year. Dan hated it.

Sunday, I caught up with former roommate and almost 30-year-old Meagan, who now lives in a chic luxury building in the west 50's. I went to see her apartment for the first time to catch up after four months and to get some inspiration for my own place. Her apartment is straight from a West Elm catalog and looks so neat and orderly, with everything is in its place, that was I was green with envy, knowing back home I had a big mess on my hands. I then took the uptown train to the Jackson's, in some disbelief that the week had flown by so quickly and here I was at their doorstep once again, with what seems like nothing to show for it. I know that is not totally true but feels that way.

This week, I am getting hardcore. There is going to be to-do lists. There is going to be job searching. There is going to be no-job fun.

Meagan, sitting on one of her comfy couches.

P.S. A Happy Birthday call-out to my brother Pete, who turned 38 on Friday!

No comments: