I think I’m losing my ever-loving mind. Now that I am unemployed, I feel like my life is a fixer-upper and I only have certain tools in my toolbox, and I live in a place where there are only so many tools available at the home stores. So I wait for a flyer about a cool tool that I might use to fix my house, and while I’m waiting I’m walking around that fixer upper poking at things and just feeling worse about stuff. I am not well suited for this. But I’ve made a few discoveries…
– No matter how many times you hit refresh, it doesn’t make jobs magically appear on the boards.
– Employment Insurance in Canada is very sloooooow in making decisions on claims.
– Reading economic news is not a good idea.
– Having a weekend job may feel like a bad idea every Saturday morning, but it sure seems like a good idea when you actually have some grocery money.
– Both exercise and ice cream have the capacity to make me feel better. I think I need to get more of both.
Which brings me to a much more lighter topic… exercise. As you know, I have been taking the family taekwondo class with the girls. While I spend at least three hours a week in the dojang, only one of those is for my own actual participation. Family class is free for the families of members, it’s something we can do together, and it is a great deal of fun. This past Wednesday was my first class since getting my first belt in December. And, for the record, while I do have my first belt, I don’t actually have a dobok (the white jammie-like uniform).
So as I was getting ready for class, in my black yoga pants and my extra-extra-large-swimming-on-my-frame black beer shirt (classy, I know, but it was free too), my girls started to nag me to try to find something white to wear. I don’t own white exercise stuff. I have two black pairs of yoga pants, and that is the entire wardrobe. A selection would suggestion that I actually do more exercise….
“Well, at least wear your belt,” they said.
“I can’t,” I said. “It would be wrong.”
“No, you earned it,” they replied. “Wear it anyway.”
“No,” I replied, frantically trying to think of a fashion reason why, but coming up with nothing better than, “because it would not go with my ninja attire. We ninja have rules about these things.”
So now, we have a running dialogue about ninjas happening, and I like that. Somehow in my mind, if I can turn my mental images around from poking about the fixer-upper house to the stealth agile movements of a ninja I think I will be far better off mentally. I think that ninja should kick the crap out of that house. You see how good exercise can be?
Of course, fixer-upper or ninja, there will always be room for the ice cream. That goes without saying.