Pickles & Dimes

- That Jason has a job. The uncertainty, the loss of control, the not knowing when things will get better…it is finally, abruptly, over. Even on the worst days, I tried to find something, anything, that was positive (some days it was hard, to be honest). It was less of a mental gratitude journal and more of a way to fight the completely believable feeling that the only reason we were still alive was because the universe wasn’t done messing with us. Now things are so much better. The “situational depression” is gone and events that would have caused me to feel like the world was ending (2-hour commutes, car repairs) while Jason was unemployed now make me shrug my shoulders and say, “It is what it is.”

- The multi-colored Christmas lights on our backyard deck. When I look at them without my glasses, they look like miniature fireworks explosions.

- The fact that getting up one time at 5:30 a.m. so far didn’t kill me dead (according to initial tests; additional data needs to be compiled to form a definitive conclusion).

- That my two-week cold/laryngitis/cough whenever I take a breath/talk/laugh seems to be done. Finally.

- More post-apocalyptic reading. This time: Dies the Fire. Things I should stock up on, just in case: seeds, water, canned food, guns, knives, rope, tents, soap, salt. Things I should learn, just in case: archery, hide tanning, hunting, blacksmithing, how to make chain mail, carpentry, how to kill a man with my bare hands.

- How Abby snuggles up next to me in bed, all warm belly and icy paws, and how she warms those paws on my neck.

- That my Christmas shopping is 97% done. This weekend is free of chores and obligations! Bring on the Cici’s Pizza! (Seriously, we are going there and I am ecstatic.)

- The Vikings making the playoffs.

- Donating. Jason dropped off some of our coats and winter clothes a few weeks ago, my employer matched my contribution to a food bank, and next week I’m dropping off some items to our local animal shelter.

- This Friday is my last workday of the year. No more commuting, no more interruptions, nothing. I get to work from home next week and then I have the following week off. Working from home with no interruptions – I cannot even fathom how productive I will be. I have 484 documents to edit (all very short), but I think I will be done with them by early Tuesday (it would probably take me a month to finish them in the office, no joke).

- Christmas cookies. I don’t bake them myself, but I love going to other people’s houses and sampling their efforts. I’m partial to gingerbread cookies and chocolate-dipped pretzels, and Jason loves those mint green marshmallowy-looking things called Forgotten Kisses. How about you?

We’ve noticed a weird behavior of Shorty’s: every day around 5:00 p.m, he’ll start shivering. It doesn’t matter if he’s in his crate, or walking around the house, or, as was the case last weekend, outside with me (when, after I told him it was time to go back inside, he sprinted for our wood pile and attempted to jump our fence. I literally caught him by the collar mid-jump.) At 5:00 p.m., he turns into a scared, skittish, shivering puppy who tries to hide under the bed and clings to your leg with his tail uncurled and slung under his belly.

We don’t know what happened to him before we adopted him. We don’t know if that time of day brought him heartache. We don’t know if he was abused.

All we know is that he barks at strangers (men, especially) and practically crawls into your lap (even if you’re not sitting and no lap exists) so you can wrap your arms around him and comfort him while he shivers and shivers, looking anxious.

By 5:15, he’s back to himself, like nothing ever happened, free to be a useful nap buddy who thoughtfully blocks the light from your eyes.

I wish I knew what happened to him before he was ours.

Yesterday, Jason & I decided to get some Christmas photo cards made at Target. The photo we wanted wasn’t saved to a disc, so we brought it along to be scanned. After selecting our holiday card background, we lifted the lid of the scanner and sadly gasped in unison when we saw that the previous user had forgotten their photo.

“Oh no,” we said, as I lifted the photo off the scanner and flipped it over, preparing to see someone’s new baby or a happy family sitting in front of a Christmas tree.

Instead, the photo was of a wrinkled, nude, 80-year-old guy sitting in a half-filled bathtub.

Yeah.

You don’t know how close we were to using that photo instead of ours.

(Instead, we turned it in to a Target employee, who blushed and said, “Oh boy.”)

276: Days Jason was unemployed

100+: Fights we had for absolutely no reason

48: Jobs we applied for

41: Weeks on unemployment

26: Months we could live off my income and our savings if unemployment ran out

24: Approximate number of jobs Jason applied to for which he was overqualified

10: Months of uncertainty, despair and the feeling of having absolutely no control

9: Jobs available to apply for in the best month (September)

8: Months before Jason really started getting interviews

6: Phone interviews

5: Times one or both of us briefly lost hope

5: Weeks left before unemployment ran out

4: Face-to-face interviews

3: Months it took from initial application to offer of employment

2: Jobs available to apply for in the worst months (June and August)

2: Vehicles that needed at least $900 in brake work during this time

2: Second interviews

2: Rejections after good interviews

2: Times references were requested

1: Time references were actually contacted

1: Third interview

1: Job offer

1: Interview request from another company after Jason accepted his job

0: Times we’ll have to spend our days, evenings and weekends searching for work