Although my last official day of employment was March 19th, I’d already been out of the office for two weeks, and if you want the honest, unvarnished truth, mentally checked out for far longer than that.  That it was time to quit working at that particular job was painfully obvious, and a formal “corrective document” from my supervisor made it clear that I wasn’t fooling anyone with my attempts to hang on.  Why, you might ask, if you are not from this planet, didn’t you just quit?  Everyone on THIS planet knows you don’t throw away the job that pays the mortgage, no matter how soul-destroying, certainly not in THESE ECONOMIC TIMES, and even more certainly not when YOU HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE WHAT COMES NEXT.  And that’s what had always stopped me, this adrift feeling that even if I did quit, I wouldn’t really have the faintest idea what I wanted to do instead.

It would take me the better part of the day to catalogue the ways in which I am supremely lucky, but the way which is most relevant for this particular post is that J is in my life, and that J has a good job, and that we live together, and I can rent my condo for the better part of the mortgage.  These lucky factors combined in just such a way that, when I returned from the office, despairing and sobbing, holding the atrocious “corrective document” like it was a jail sentence (and LO, it was), J simply looked at me calmly and said, “Why don’t you quit?”

Radical notion.  And so I did.  Resigned, packed my desk, and spent from then until now, pretty happily unemployed; the only cloud in my coffee the fact that we had to let the housekeeper go.  Between March and Now, there was LOTS to keep me busy.  My ongoing medical issues with my feet took center stage, because I had more time to deal with them, instead of fighting like everyone else for the coveted 4:30pm doctor’s visit.  I merrily made appointments for 10am (lest I have to wake up too early), and rarely sat in waiting rooms for doctors who’d fallen behind.

Our planned trip to Paris that morphed into 11 days in Mexico, (thanks for nothing, Iceland) ate up most of the month of April, between the planning and the packing and then the replanning and the repacking, and DEAR GOD, the laundry upon our return.

J’s company got FDA approval, and all of a sudden, the mythical move to Southern California we’d been kicking around became a reality.  A reality with a location and a deadline- and my life was a whirlwind of coordinating.  The realtors, the movers, the estimates, the painter and the electrician and the endless trips to Goodwill.  My calendar for May and June was jam-packed with appointments; a million times busier than I’d ever been at the office.

And then, finally, but also too soon, we were here in California, and the house was a maze of boxes.  Unpacking and triaging became the center of the universe, locating the coffee shop that was needed to sustain this activity an absolute must.  A trillion trips to Goodwill and an equal number to the DMV, a small fortune dropped at both Target and Best Buy (both of whom, it has recently been reported, gave six-figure sums to Republican candidates in Minnesota, candidates who deeply oppose not only my right to marry J, but, I would imagine, my VERY EXISTENCE, so I am drinking deeply from the cup of regret in both instances).

If you’re still with me, and LO, I would not blame you if you weren’t, that brings us to today.  The house is set up, the good people of Long Beach, via the miracle of Craigslist, have divested us of all the clutter we don’t need, leaving precious little to do around the house, save the dishes.

There is no more coordinating, no more appointments to make, no more places to be or paperwork to drop off.  The wedding is as planned as it’s going to get from this distance, and the cats don’t need, and really don’t want, anything more than fresh food in the bowl and the chance to walk on my head while I sleep.

You can see where this is going, no?  I’m bored.  And since my preferred method of staving off boredom is shopping, and we have limited funds with which to engage in such an activity, I have only one alternative.