Job Search

Being unemployed really shifts your priorities. For example, my main goals these days are just to get up by 10, have breakfast by 11, so I can catch Maury's Paternity Tests,

"James, You . . are . . NOT . . the father!"

"I told you! I told you!"

and have pants on by the time the mailman comes around, around 12. Sure, Ive been applying for jobs and have phone interviews, but those dont really require you to get up real early or even get dressed for that matter. Showering too has become optional.

"So James, Give me two adjectives to describe yourself."

" . . . (I mute Sponge Bob) I'd say Professional and Ambitious."

Life moves at a different speed when you are unemployed. Initially, you expect it to be like a snow day from school where you can run around with your friends and just have a good time, but they (for the most part) too have jobs. So it is more like a one-man, snow day. Its more like having the measles actually then the typical 'Carpe Diem' boost you get from a snow day. You just stay at home, struggling to eat, trying not to defile yourself anymore then necessary; sitting in the absence of those around as they go out and pursue their lives or work.

I mean it has its perks. I dont think Ive missed one airing of 'Road House' on cable since I got back into the country, and I'm getting wicked at Fussball thanks to an on-going feud with my brother. But slowly yet surely, I am becoming a home body. Or a house cat really for that matter. Well maybe not my house cat, because I think my cat has a drug problem, but one none the less.

Honest, Ive come to believe she's a real party animal. She's got a real problem; she's not the fun-loving cat Ive come to know and love. I mean the signs have always been there. She's always really moody, sleeping through most of the day, throwing up for no reason, chasing hallucinated mice and balls of string around the house, and quite agitated and jumpy.

And I cant prove it but, I think she has been siphoning gas from my car to finance a feline fight club in our garage.

She's a mess. I have no idea what she does for a living, but I cant imagine she has a job anymore with her chronic absenteeism. And she cant even maintain her choirs around the house. I mean she doesnt even try and keep the squirrels on our porch at bay anymore. They took down our bird feeder last week, which has had a two prong effect on the Jeffery household:

One, there are now Super Squirrels loitering in our backyard fueled by unmolested access to copious amounts of the latest in Bird Seed Technology,
and Two, there are less birds in our backyard for Maddy to kill, partially eat, and then drag throughout the house for all to see. And no one wants that.

Poor cat. Its time for us to have an intervention. This has gone on long enough.

"Maddy, before we start this, we just wanted to say that you are among friends here and we love you. But this has gone far enough."

"(meow)?"

"Yes, Maddy you have a drug problem . . . And we think its time you got some help."

"(meow)!"

"Damn it, Maddy this is about you not me. (start sobbing) I just . . . . I just cant be around you when you get like this. No. I cant."

"(meow)."

"WHO SOLD YOU THE STUFF!"

. . . . .

Long story short; Im looking for work . . . . and a Super Squirrel Net.