I did a little research today in preparation for my continued relationship with the unemployment office. Turns out that in addition to my demotion at work, I also earned myself a nice pay cut, so between that and the reduced hours, that should make things a little more interesting. I was sitting and mulling the situation over recently, and I came to the conclusion that, should my schedule more or less hold as it is now, I actually could probably pick up a standard 9 to 5 gig and not run into timing conflicts with dealing. I'm not quite 50/50 about whether I should be doing that...more like...maybe 60/40 against, but the idea is still there, looming. This week should tell me a lot about what I can expect from an average week in the upcoming months. (This week makes a poor test case because of the holiday weekend.) If my average week turns out to be insufficient, I really ought to start thinking about a second job. The way things are going, I still feel pretty secure about being able to make it to January to see if my job status changes then. (Oh, and for more added excitement, though, the event that would bring the jobs in, the Borgata Winter Open, is apparently now no longer a World Poker Tour stop, which was, you know, kind of the whole reason it brings jobs in. Whoops. So that's just one more dash of uncertainty thrown into this already quite flavorful tenuous stew.
That aside, though, I had a bit of a "moment" last night. There's this Irish bread called "barm brack." It's got like raisins and junk in it...it's sort of like a sweetened bread, or a really not sweet fruitcake. It's an autumn thing, usually...I think it's an Irish Halloween bread. Anyway, my mom is a fan of it, and she makes it from time to time. She made a few...uh, loaves?...and gave one to each myself and my sister when we all met up for Thanksgiving. It's a hearty bread; every once in a while I'll just slice off a chunk for a snack or something. Anyway, it's a nice thing, homemade barm brack from my mom's kitchen. There's just something comforting and homey about it. Last night I was feeling a bit...not overwhelmed, but at least concerned...about my immediate and not-so-immediate future, and I was thinking about the extra job thing. Anyway, at some point I sliced off a chunk of barm brack, buttered it, and chewed it thoughtfully down. While doing that, I experienced a particularly cozy sensation. It was like...come on. How bad can things be? I'm doing a decent enough job keeping things together. I'm relatively young, relatively healthy, basically happy, and I live a life leisurely enough that I have time to myself to, basically, just sit around, and it's all in a nice world where my mom bakes me barm brack from time to time. I mean, all things considered -- job, no job, two jobs -- I'm doing pretty okay. Even things looking their bleakest can't be all that bleak; I've got friends and family around that I know won't let me get crushed by the world. It's true that I prefer to go it alone if it all possible. It's just the kind of wiring I've got. But sitting home warm and comfortable and nourished by family-provided barm brack...it's just nice, too, sometimes, to know I'm not alone.
And, if you're reading this, then neither are you. Dig?