Day 7

Day seven of unemployment:
It's been one week, I think at some point today. I'm not really affected. I've seen friends I haven't seen in years. I've laughed and been more relaxed in the last few days than I have in the last few years. I was totally due for some time off. Since this time off doesn't seem to have an end, I've dubbed it: permanent vacation.
This makes my loved ones leery. But the car payments and health insurance, they say, with eyes that are untrusting. Don't worry about it - it'll get paid I tell them. They remain nervous.
And then, my friend drags me to our high school. I haven't been back there since graduation, 12 years ago.
She's a teacher and wants to pay some respects. Since I have nothing better going on, I concede. When they ask what I do, respond with, I'm a journalist. I've never called myself this before and the journalist part of me balks because it's inaccurate. Right now, I'm not really anything.
But, can a journalist ever really be unemployed? Story ideas still swarm my brain. I can't turn it off, despite the flip flops and the disheveled hair.