I emerged from underneath a pile of magnum wrappers to write this for you

Here’s the thing about unemployment – you feel that now you suddenly have all this time to get things done that you never had time for when you were working. Like changing the address on your licence, contacting that person you had meant to eons ago, finally getting out and finding the perfect nail polish colour you have been dreaming about, playing on that new swing set down at the park, trying out the new bubble-tastic bubblegum flavoured toothpaste, collecting all the different types of those little stickers that come on apples and finally watching the entire film of career of Samuel Jackson in one sitting.

As you may have noticed, the useful and important things that you needed to get done gradually evolve into a whole lot of time-wasting activities of which the working population would scorn. The other day I found myself watching the entire series of “16 and Pregnant” and actually feeling proud once I had successfully gawped at every knocked-up teenage girl that was given their own one hour television show. How sad is that? – The fact that I was proud, I mean—I’m aware that the whole teenage mother thing is sad on its own but that is another barrel of pudding reserved for another rant.

Suddenly I find myself yearning to alphabetise the condiments in my pantry or write reviews of everything I own and submitting them into the voids of the internet – needless to say my priorities become largely skewed as well. Labelling the contents of every drawer in the house with colour coded post-it notes is far more important than applying for jobs. After all, opening a word document is far more effort than dusting the shelf displaying my newly discovered beanie baby collection and giving them all hilarious yet sexual poses. Making a single phone call regarding work? Forget it. Watching re-runs of “Pokemon”? Hellz yeah.

You’ve probably deduced that writing a blog is another form of procrastination. At least it makes me sound like I’ve accomplished something remotely productive in a day than just filling my head with reality television nonsense. Again those who live in the working world don’t particularly enjoy hearing the difference in possum mating noises that you learnt on some random Albanian documentary that came on when the remote happened to be miles away.

There are time limits on the processes of unemployment and they look a bit like this:

1 – 2 days – wow I’m out of work – this is so new to me – I’m going to talk a relaxing stroll, maybe see a film and enjoy the day.   

7 days – I think that the house is clean enough now and the fridge sufficiently stocked with the items in which to make delicious and nutritious meals for the coming week. It is, after all, time I learnt how to make a decent roast.

2 weeks – Might be time to start looking for jobs. I’ll just open an internet browser and happen to find myself on ebay... hmm... the possibilities.

A month – What jobs are—Hey! I can see a coin stuck between the floorboards!

Two months – Oh no, wait it’s just a button.

3 months – Jelly beans = meal of the day

6 months – I can now recite most episodes of “Desperate Housewives” by heart.

1 year – Let’s face it I’m never going to get another job as I can no longer communicate with people without them thinking I am homeless – even when they are in standing in my home given the hygienic state of both and the my lacking in eye contact and social norms such as not growling when they get too close to the half eaten packet of Doritos stuck behind a pile of dirty clothes.

2 years -  Cn’t rite – 2 bzy wtchin’ zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...