by isaac black

I’ve been jobless for a month. I’m not bored, and far from it. I have a pile of clean clothes on my floor and a layer of dust on my car’s dash that I’ve been too busy to clean up. I’ve been on two weeklong trips and in the interim, I’ve made a lot of progress on my novel. I have been learning Spanish and Python and steadily reading through my reading list. I haven’t been submitting short stories lately because I haven’t carved out time for it. I haven’t even watched Andrei Rublev yet.

My sense of time is changing. I forget the days. I don’t have the same sense of endurance through the week work with a protracted downtime on the weekends. Instead each day follows the contour that my week used to–a sluggish morning, productive afternoon and sometimes evening, a little bit of socialization and some free time at night.

“Joy” is a bit too strong a word, but I’m feeling a great sense of satisfaction from writing. My free time involved both decompression and creativity, so my writing started to come with a sense of exhaustion. With enough time to think and deliberate about what I was doing, I feel energized after writing.

I don’t know how I’m going to go back to working. Luckily I have enough funds for another eleven months, at least. I’m feeling good about the budget I set for myself. I was hoping I would be under budget, but I also don’t really want to miss out on fun events or trips. I did save a little money this month by not signing up for health insurance yet (I have another thirty days or so). I also was able to do some contract work for my old employer, and it looks like I might make a couple hundred dollars when I exercise my stock options (before taxes).