Fire Sale on Mayonnaise

Today, my first unemployment check arrived.

I really like the idea of getting paid for sitting around, making homemade mayonnaise and knitting and watching Fox Reality Channel (a sidebar: has anybody seen that channel? It defies explanation. Holy crap, there is some excessively awful TV out there that I didn't even know existed.) It probably would have been less appealing a year from now, but when we did the math, we realized that if I kept Max at home with me, I would be breaking even.

What this involved, though, was a committment: I had to commit to staying at home, not job-hunting, and depending on my unemployment.

Have I mentioned my confirmed status as a total commitment-phobe?

And let me say this: Dan doesn't care what I do, as long as I'm happy. Dan is the most adaptable, accepting, open-minded human being I have ever met in my entire life, which is why I snapped him right up and married him. I cannot say enough good things about this man.

What if the perfect job fell into my lap? What if the opportunity to be, like, an ice cream taster for Satan came along? Do I sell my soul and put my kid back in daycare for that job?

Yes, as it turns out, I do. On the day that my first unemployment check arrived, the day that I decided I would give stay-at-home-mom-hood another shot (I stayed home with Max for fourteen months, and...let's just say it wasn't my cup of tea), I got offered a job. I got offered the job, the ice cream tester for Satan job. I got offered the cream of the crop of jobs that I interviewed for in a panic the week after I got laid off, the one I really wanted, the tasty morsel. They offered me more money than I asked for, they're in a primo location, and best of all, I don't have think about whether this place will close its doors.

I got a job, so get your free mayonnaise while you can.