I spent a solid ten minutes this morning trying to decide whether I could go to Morning Times in my pajamas.

You are free to judge, as long as you, too, are five days from being laid off, and your puppy just gave you a fat lip as you were trying to administer ear drops and everyone ended up crying on the floor of the guest bathroom. Before eight a.m.

In my defense, the pajamas in question do not really look like pajamas.  In fact, I bought this particular item at Francescas for $30 sometime back in 2009, a stretchy black hooded sweaterdress, which I wore over jeans to studio for long, long hours at my cold drafting table.  At some point, probably crawling into bed fully clothed after long, long hours at my drafting table, I realized it was the best sleeping attire ever invented.  I carried it with me as one of the very small inventory of items I wore when I traveled around the world, and on cold winter nights I can burrow down under the covers and pull the hood up over my head.  These last three (three? how can it be three already?) months with Dawg, I’ve rolled out of bed around dawn in it, pulled on jeans and my fake Target-brand Uggs, thrown on a coat, and walked Dawg in my pajamas. Around the neighborhood. In public.

Kind of amazing, what a puppy will do for your perspective.  And keeping your dignity in check.

I did, for the record, put on clothes before I came to Morning Times today for a Sunday biscuit.  I even brushed my hair.  One should not job hunt, even from one’s computer, without putting on actual clothes and brushing one’s hair.  That sort of thing translates over the ether. I’m sure of it.

My unemployment plan is shaping up ok.  Every plan I have made so far for my down time has been scrapped, reinstated, scrapped again. I thought I’d run away for a few weeks; having just returned from Budapest, I’m not sure I really need to do that.  I thought I’d buy an Airstream and go live in a van down by the river part time; that proved to be unfeasible right now, though not necessarily off the table. The sun is out, and there are snowdrops and grape hyacinths peeking out in my yard, and the Carolina jasmine has itty-bitty buds on it.  I like the idea of being around town for early spring in Raleigh, especially now that Dawg is almost ready to be out and about in public and we can be a lot more mobile.   I’m not worried about filling my time, although I do hope it’s a reasonably short amount of lag time.  I’ve been interviewing.  I have some leads.  I’m not in a huge rush.

Right now I have one more week at my desk, and then the business is closing for good.  New chapters beginning for everyone involved.  I love a new chapter.  A blank page is pretty scary, though.  You have to impose a little bit of order, when you have a chunk of down time.  Dawg will keep getting me up at dawn, and I’ll spend most of my time doing productive job-hunting, self-improving things.  There will be time for long walks in the sunshine, though, and lolling about at cafe tables reading the pile of books I have backlogged, and tidying up the yard a bit, and maybe some writing and photography and creative fun.

You can judge this, too, but I decided to incorporate at least a small amount of controlled decadence.  I’ve earmarked one afternoon a week for Day Drinking with friends on the Sadlack’s patio.  A girl has to have some fun, even while job hunting.  Dawg and I will see you there.

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