Caterwauling

Typically, at the tail end of a holiday weekend, I have one of two reactions. One, I probably worked on the holiday and would be bemoaning the fact that everyone else had a long weekend but I did not. Or two, I’d be getting the back-to-school butterflies.

I started to get the butterflies tonight, and instinctively, I started making some hot chocolate to soothe my nerves so that I wouldn’t be awake half the night, dreading the workweek.

But then I remembered …

I DON’T HAVE A JOB ANYMORE.

And while the financial future is a scary one (that should, admittedly, be causing gastrointestinal activity more similar to trapped hornets than butterflies), I became almost giddy at the fact that I don’t have to go into the old office anymore. Not that I didn’t like my job — I loved it, actually — but I won’t duck in late and hope to not be noticed as I futz with my key in the door. I won’t have to dart to the coffee pot and jet back to my office, where I kept my own personal supply of creamer and Splenda, to avoid fumbled too-early-in-the-morning chitchat over the murky brew. I won’t see the light on my voice mail lit up with some misdirected caller who landed in my VM box because they know my name or they met me at some function and hope I can redirect his or her request to the right person or, as they always ask, if I can just handle it myself because they trust me.

Tomorrow, I will awaken without an alarm. I will make coffee and curl up on the couch with the remote and a pack of Camel Lights. I will giggle at Jerry Springer and dance with Ellen DeGeneres. I will go to the dollar store to pick up paper towels, check my post office box and maybe go vacuum my car. Or not. Whatever — it’s my time now.

I’m on vacation — in my own mind, anyway. My goal is to not look for full-time work because that’s a life that never truly suited me. I will look for freelance projects soon, though, because one cannot live in D.C. on dreams alone. But tomorrow is not that day that I figure out the rest of my life. No, tomorrow is the day I enjoy as the first day I’ve never needed to be anywhere or call/meet with anybody.

It’s a good feeling. And now, I am sipping hot chocolate and having my last cigarette of the night, but there’s no pressure to crawl into bed because there will be no alarm to jolt me into functioning in seven hours.

I’m starting to live the life I’ve coveted for so long. Makes me wonder why I didn’t do it sooner. I think everyone in the world would be happier if work wasn’t the No. 1 priority in life.

On iTunes: Melissa Ferrick, “Feel Like Makin’ Love”

This entry was posted on Monday, September 6th, 2004 at 10:48 PM and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.