Day two of unemployment:
It's Sunday, so it's still difficult to get my brain around. I have yet to feel the performing-trapeze- acts-without-a-net feeling that I'm anticipating.
I have dinner with my parents. They seem more concerned about the whole situation than I do. They make the face. I'm getting used to it. Actually, only my mom makes the face and only once. My dad remains stoic, pragmatic.
I add up the numbers, the dollars I'm supposed to be getting this paycheck, my last paycheck in my head once again over dinner.
I recently did a story on a librarian who was retiring after many, many years in the stacks. Her friend came in when we were finishing up the interview. She said the strangest/nicest thing to have to get used to, the time when you'll really feel the retirement like a little warm bird on your shoulder, is Sunday nights.
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