Off the dole

They took away my gimp card on the first day of September, as per Dr. Lifesaver’s instructions. Soon after that, I had my monthly meeting with the Scar Club and for the first time, I thought, Hey, I don’t actually have much in common with these people anymore. Then, last week, Dr. Chen told me I’d graduated from acupuncture.

The writing was on the wall: You’re able-bodied. Get a job, girl.

I have to admit, the one thoroughly enjoyable side effect of the Bad Thing that befell me a year and a half ago has been not working.

I guess there are some people who honestly like work. Some people, when you ask them what they’ve been up to, will grin and say, “Oh, keeping busy!” For some reason, that always makes me want to cry.

Turns out, I am brilliant at being idle. In the past month, for example, I have spent approximately 75 hours walking around listening to the Dinosaur Jr version of “Quicksand” and taking pictures of my feet with my Sidekick.

I never get bored, because of my brain!

Sometimes I feel sad, sure. But it’s a sort of royal sadness. Sometimes I think about how being a human being is a bad idea, a losing battle, etc., but I never think I hate my life. I muse about how would it be better to be a tree or whatever, but I hardly ever get into a bad mood and want to cut some bitch for bumping into me on the train. That used to happen to me all the time when I worked.

You know how when you go to another country, everything is different and your regular life feels so far away, and then when you’re on the airplane coming home, you vow you’re going to do things differently–you’re going to see your friends more, and go to more movies than bars, and not let the dishes pile up, and finish the needlepoint project you started forever ago, and not get dragged down by life, goddamn it.

That’s where I am: on the plane.

Do you think those vows ever come true?

by Pistol Whip | 2 October 2007 | in earnest, hopes and dreams | Comments