So when you have a pink slip in one hand and an eviction note in the other, what do you do? Take the bull by the horns and start working on your imminent move? (Very proactive and adult.) March to the unemployment office and submit your papers? (Still an adult response) Start day drinking while watching 1970’s era TV sitcoms looking for inspiration which will lead to your own happy ending? (no adulting to be found here, but you’ll nail procrastination and denial with one blow)
The first option made a dense grey fog descend over me, weighing my limbs down until I couldn’t move. The second option would required me hunt for paperwork and admit my jobless status – causing small boulders to roll around in my tummy Indiana Jones style. The third option sounded rather good actually. I do love The Bob Newhart Show, Bob’s Burgers and vodka…
Instead I decided to look for comfort and support, sans bottle. So I called my Aunt. I can only blame my befuddled state (the shock of my new status – not alcohol – just so we are clear) for this decision.
The conversation went something like this:
Aunt Pearl: “How are you, dear?”
Me: “Fine. Well not really, Ben has laid me off and kicked me out of the cottage! I have to be out in two weeks!”
Aunt Pearl (I can hear magazine pages flipping in the background): “I am sorry to hear that. But it’s for the best dear. What kind of future did you have there anyway? You couldn’t get a promotion or a raise. Now you can get a real job. My friend Ruth’s daughter (more page flipping) just got a job in a dental office. She’s making good money as a dental hygienist.”
Me: “Seriously? Me a hygienist?”
Aunt Pearl: “Perhaps you’re right. Still living in an apartment and getting a less morbid job will be good for you. Maybe you can meet someone, make some new friends.”
Me (Now seeing that a very large man should have popped up from the floor and sang the word “MISTAKE!” in a disgustingly hearty voice the second I started dialing this number.): “Thanks Aunt Pearl, I’ll think about it. I’ll talk to you later.”
Aunt Pearl: “You’re welcome, dear. Don’t forget your Uncle and I are leaving tomorrow and will be out of town until next Friday – visiting Susan and Dylan. We’re driving there so we can’t lend you the truck. Sorry. We’ll see you when we get back. Love you.”
Me: “Love you too. Bye.”
My Aunt possesses many fine qualities, but offering sympathy is not a prominent portion of her personality. Binge watching too many stylized TV families makes me forget my reality (no I wasn’t drinking before I called her….but when I got off the phone it was after five and so no longer counted as day drinking, I might have had a smidge). When I climbed back on the couch and mentally started sorting my living room into pitch and pack piles (more in the former than the latter) my phone warbled informing me of a new text.