ess and starting over with something else." I was building the business with the vision of eventually leaving it, and he was building the business to keep it going. If you saw the way h

legs, hold their toes, and roll sideways, struggling to get back into position. It's fun to watch the first ten times. I've had two invitations to be a godmother in seven weeks, as if that would help keep the unemployed friend busy. Both requests were thoughtful and kind, and I was thrilled, but if I were working, they wouldn't have asked me because I wouldn't have visited them as much, or met their children, and it all comes down to my being unemployed. Now I'm the girl her friends call when they're having a meltdown, their hair greasy and stuck to their heads, stinking of sweat and baby vomit, when they tell me on the phone in a whispered voice that gives me the creeps that they're afraid of what they're going to do, and then I rush off to hold the baby while they take a ten-minute shower. I've learned that a ten-minute shower and the gift of going to the bathroom without a timer does a lot more to restore new parents than simple personal hygiene. I call my sister spontaneously, something I've never been able to do before. It's been really confusing for her, and when we're together she keeps asking me what time it is, as if I've messed up her biological clock. I got my Christmas shopping done in plenty of time. I bought real Christmas cards and mailed them in time-all two hundred of them. I even took charge of my dad's grocery list. I'm ultra-efficient, I always have been. Of course I can do nothing-I love two weeks off, I love lying on the beach and doing nothing-but only when it's my decision, on my terms, when I know there's something waiting for me afterward. After this holiday season, I need a goal. I need a purpose. I need a challenge. I need a purpose. I need to contribute. I need to do something. I loved my job, but to make myself feel better about not being able to work there anymore, I try to focus on what I won't miss. I've worked with men most of the time. Most of them were a pain, some were fun, and a few were pleasant. I didn't like spending much time with them outside of work, which may make my next sentence seem nonsensical, but it does. Out of a team of ten, I slept with three of them. Of those three, I regret sleeping with two; the only one I don't regret deeply regrets sleeping with me. How unfortunate! I won't miss th