I'm in a little bit of a rut. Unemployment will do that to you, even when you're trying to keep busy with job applications and a weekly writing project, but the things that make for good stories are come second to making sure the rent and bills are paid, and there are only so many things you can do to spice up the job hunt process. My trips to the library were originally intended as an excuse to shower, dress and get out of the apartment, but I'm starting to get bored with this new routine, and the long bus trips back and forth just feel like more wasted time and energy.
I need some new adventures or ways to get myself out of my own head, at least for my writing's sake.
A few things have broken the monotony. Spending time with friends helps. After the vigil for the Orlando shooting victims, my friend and I hung around downtown for a few hours and caught up. Another had me over for dinner and wine. When summer finally hit Halifax, I went with another to Point Pleasant and the waterfront. (I'm also easily plied with the promise of wine, craft beer or cider.) I'm afraid I'm going to dominate the conversation with depressing unemployment talk but we usually find more interesting things to discuss.
I got a letter in the mail from an old friend on Monday. I love getting snail mail. Social media is convenient but constrained, and as much as e-mail's better for being able to mold your thoughts and let them breathe, it still hasn't replaced the intimacy and tangibility of a hand-written letter, and it's such a rare thing for me to get real mail (that is, anything that isn't a bill or flyer) so I appreciate whenever someone takes the time, effort and money involved in using our postal system. I was relieved that it came before a potential Canada Post work stoppage froze anything that was in transit, but it was good to hear from her again. I want my reply to do the original letter justice.
I'm bored talking about myself, and the last week's worth of news just reveals how trivial my own complaints are. In those matters I'd rather cede the floor to voices that need to be amplified.
If you have anything on your mind, drop me a line. The longer, the better. Distract me from my solipsism.