Not having a job provides all sorts of entertainment and insight. Over three nights we watched Star Wars, Kristine wearing headphones for full cinematic effect while I listened to the TV with the volume down so low I could barely hear it.
Angus isn't worried about my unemployment
We didn’t want to wake Angus.
It was the first time Kristine had seen Star Wars. I’ve watched it dozens of times, maybe a hundred times. She loved it. When Han Solo appeared for the first time she took a sharp breath.
‘He’s just so beautiful,’ she said of Harrison Ford.
When Han Solo, uttered his immortal line, sometimes I amaze even myself, Kristine pointed at me and laughed.
I shrugged. You need to get your inspiration somewhere. Han Solo isn’t bad inspiration.
The following morning I took Angus for an early morning walk past the station. A lot of people I once shared a train with waited on the platform. I didn’t envy their jobs but envied those train rides.
Despite being surrounded by dozens of people and rarely getting a seat, the train to the city was my time. I zoned out to music and read a book. The trip to work was enjoyable, as was the ride home. I have a remarkable ability to switch off from work, no matter what had happened.
A former colleague and antagonist, during a spiteful meeting, demanded to know how I did it.
‘I’d love to be able to do what you do but I’ve got all these responsibilities,’ she said.
‘I listen to AC/DC and read books about football, cricket or boxing’ I said. ‘It’s better than thinking about work.’
I wonder what she’s doing now. She’s probably not wondering what I’m doing. If she knew she wouldn’t be surprised.
Despite what the community says about public transport, I liked it. I didn’t have to drive to work surrounded by dickheads on the road. Instead, I was occasionally surrounded by dickheads on the train but I got to work stress free and entertained, which is the best way to get to work.
Angus likes watching the trains but occasionally he’s frightened when the driver blasts the horn.
I love having my boy on my chest as we walk through the suburb. It is intimate, daddy time, Kristine calls it, which is her polite way of saying get him out of here for half an hour.
I keep talking to him, describing what we’re seeing, look at the magpie, don’t worry about that dog, he’s just doing his job, do you see the men playing golf.
If I was employed there’d be no interaction. Angus would be awake when I left for work. I’d get a kiss but when I got home he’d be ready for bed or in bed. Instead of being happy, Angus would be complaining about wearing pyjamas and a sleeping bag.
I understand his angst. I hate pyjamas. I think they should be banned.
I tried getting creative in the kitchen, learning how not to cook southern fried chicken and pork butt roast. The chicken was best served without the rubbery coating and the pork resembled cardboard.
The fish soup I made was better. I made ice cream and it disappeared quickly. Kristine said she doesn’t know how it happened.
‘Well I certainly don’t,’ I said.
‘Maybe it was Angus,’ she said.
Things were going pretty well until I sat down at the computer to apply for a job and discovered one of the vacancies I’d short listed couldn’t be found. I started swearing. The vacancy was there yesterday and today it was as though it never existed.
Kristine offered reasonable suggestions at different internet searches. I offered obvious answers through gritted teeth. The bad mood was back, only this time it wasn’t phantom. My mood worsened when Kristine asked why I didn’t apply yesterday.
‘Yesterday I left two messages for the woman to call me and she didn’t call me back,’ I said. ‘I didn’t want to apply without knowing exactly what I had to address because there is no selection criteria.’
Unable to find the job on the company website, I fired off a terse email, I left messages about this job yesterday and no one called me back. I’d appreciate a phone call.
The phone call I received about ten minutes later was devastating. I’d been delicately planting lettuce but retreated to the garage, to the shade.
After hanging up I went inside and apologised to Kristine for my feral mood. We had a serious discussion about her returning to work. It went longer than two seconds.
Afterwards, I went back to the vegetable patch, watering the seedlings, thinking about the phone call and how it would impact my family.
