Take this job and shove it 5

More memories …

I baked 3,000 cookies to greet my son after school. I guess I was making up for lost time since he had never ridden the bus home to be greeted by a cheery mother. The cookies would be ready but don't count on a chipper matriarch this early in her unemployed career.

I took a four-hour shower to see if I could try out for Pruneface in the next Dick Tracy movie. Not being chased out by husband and son after two minutes was a new experience. Then I drained the river a little more by washing 100 loads of laundry, catching up on all the clothes my son outgrew two years ago.

I listened to my favorite music as loud as I wanted because I couldn't at work. I turned on the television set and watched cartoons all by myself and laughed out loud. I wore out my thumb and the remote control batteries by changing channels all afternoon.

Yes, it was me and I'm proud of it. It's my lump of coal and I'll burn it if I want to.

The first week of unemployment was nearly complete and I was manic, the adrenaline pumping me up. This vacation was short-lived as I charted my life's course. My husband stared as I rushed through the house.

"Honey, your voice has that nervous crack in it. I'm worried about you," he said.

"I'll be OK in a few thousand days."

Reality was settling in but I was almost too busy to notice. I had become a woman obsessed with a mission. I was opening my own business and ready for a new challenge. I would be my own boss. I found myself in a whirlwind on the telephone and running from the printer to the bank to the supply store and every point in-between. And I was the happiest I had been in years.

I would succeed. I had to succeed. My cat was depending on me.

Just sign me Mrs. X because I don't want too many people to know the horrible misfortune that had befallen me. Of course, I am the one dancing in the street.