by isaac black

I’ve been unemployed now for two weeks. This has been the first full work week that I’ve been idle. I’m happy with what I’ve gotten done this week, but my daily pace is pretty sluggish. I’ve been sleeping more than I thought. My sleep schedule has been to go to bed around 1 am and wake up at 7:40 (when I used to set my alarm when I was working). After I go to the bathroom I go back to sleep until around 10. I spend an hour in bed, typically, getting caught up on phone stuff. Then I make coffee and have a small breakfast.

I’ve gone to the grocery store every day. I made refried beans from scratch the other day, and I’ve got some peppers fermenting for a hot sauce. I’ve only eaten out once–yesterday at a bakery, to celebrate the first day of my new budget. I eat less than I had been, and I don’t snack. Anxiety with me really tends to determine my appetite, whether it’s overeating or not eating at all.

The thing that I didn’t fully expect was the anxiety that comes with having no excuse for flaking on things. I have all the time in the world, so I feel like I basically have to come through for people pretty much immediately, at least if I’ve said I would.

At the beginning of the week, I also felt a little anxious about being productive. This is something that I’ve been working on for the last five or six years–the feeling that I need to be producing something in order to justify my leisure. Whether that’s gone away or whether I’ve just signed myself up for enough projects already isn’t clear. I had a friend ask me to send him some music for a phone game he’s designing. I’m learning Python with the help of a friend. I’m driving some friends’ moving truck next week to New York. I always have my novel to work on. I’m learning Spanish. I’m making progress on my reading list. Because these are the things I want to do they don’t feel like chores or “work.” That was really my aim with this. So far so good.

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