Now I am so over and done with being unemployed. Just done. I can almost feel my brain cells dying off from lack of use. There is a lot I would like to do, but money always ends up being the thing that keeps it from happening. It’s hard not to feel like my house is a prison. I try to get out when I can, but the highlight of my day is often a trip to the grocery store. Most of my time I am cooking, cleaning, reading, watching TV, or surfing the internet. Hardly a scintillating existence.
Add to that the fact that I know almost no one here and my primary social interactions are with someone who is stressed about his own job search and ardently studying for a bar exam he most certainly does not want to take. I wish I had the money to go visit friends or family so that I could feel some semblance of normalcy and sanity.
How did I go from being a published, award-winning young scholar to a bored and frustrated housewife? I shouldn’t be surprised that I am unhappy, yet I didn’t think it would happen this quickly.