Both of my parents retired early. My dad decided to retire the summer when I was between seventh and eighth grade, and my mom was offered a killer package while I was in grade ten. Also, more than once when I was growing up, my dad took a year off (once when I was in kindergarten, and again when I was in grade four). While I certainly have a lot of memories of my parents working -- babysitters, my own house key, calling them at work to complain about my brother -- I have an equal amount of experience with my parents not working.

Shortly after both my parents through in the towel on the whole working thing, I remember a conversation. We were sitting outside having a cup of tea on a rather glorious day, and they both remarked on how unbelievably busy they were since they retired. I remember distinctly my dad saying "How did we ever find time to work?"

I feel a bit of that right now. Barring one day when I think I was awake for a grand total of eight hours, it's been crazy around here. Last weekend was a mission. Trash Palace on Friday (Christopher Plummer! John Candy! the Eaton Centre! pulled pork sandwich stains!), Free Comic Book Day/Dinner/Wolverine Saturday, the Clothing Show and a BBQ on Sunday. Then there was sleeping for sixteen hours and poetry reading (hearing Jen Currin, Christine LeClerc, Kim Mikus and Kevin Connolly read at the National Poetry Month Hangover was spectacular) and OMG I ACTUALLY WROTE SOMETHING I DON'T HATE. There have been cleaning missions and a day of cooking (mm..carrot cake). I've actually no idea how on earth I structured my time before.

This weekend is shaping up to be a dozy too. Not only is it the Toronto Comic Arts Festival, but the Trash Palace is celebrating it's second anniversary with a dusk-til-dawn 5-feature extravaganza. It's like the world's coolest, smelliest slumber party. Cactus Press is also having a launch tonight, and there's some black metal happening at Smiling Buddha Bar. I don't really even see enough time for sleeping in there.

For the last several months, BK has been teasing me about my lack of party. He found my going-to-bed-early and getting-up-in-the-morning and not-drinking-all-the-time schedule somewhat at odds to the person who made grilled cheese in his kitchen at 4:30 am. The other day, I got teased for my endless string of "let's do this cool thing!" facebook invitations (I believe he suggested I put together a weekly Natalie Zed Activities Newsletter). While I did feel a little sheepish, it also made me feel like I was doing something right with this time.

Outside it is gloriously sunny. The trees have finally broken. Everything is warm and green, and I think I hear a patio calling to me.

Labels: Literary Events, Toronto, Unemployment

After my initial "I am going to starve and get evicted and have to pan-handle *weep*" freak-out when I was first laid off, being unemployed started to look okay. Today, as I handed in the last of my class materials and said a temporary goodbye to my coworkers, unemployment started to look AWESOME.

Here are a few reasons why:

1) Movies

In May alone, I have X-Men Origins: Wolverine (Biceps!), Terminator: Salvation ("Do I go around messing with your lights?!"), Star Trek (Sylar and Spock!), Up (Pixar!), and Drag Me to Hell (Sam Raimi!) all making me squee with joy. I Plan to see most on opening night or thereabouts, which I could have done while still being gainfully employed. But, after the opening-night nerdfest experience, I might want to review certain points, so as to participate more effectively in a deep conversation about the size of Hugh Jackmans's biceps. And for that, there's nothing like a matinee (avec flask).

2) Comic Books

Free Comic Book Day and the Toronto Comic Arts Festival are also both rocking in May, and I am going to need days to prepare. Also, I'll now have all the time int he world to read my new acquisitions.

3) Patios

Spring seemed to be giving us all the collective finger. Then, I taught my last class at Hogwarts, and something miraculous happened: it got freaking beautiful out. The next three days feature highs in the mid-twenties. I plan of ordering me some coronas, planting myself on a patio, and not moving for several hours.

4) Reading

I just picked up the first Definitive Edition of Y: The Last Man, both trades of Nextwave: Agents of H.A.T.E, the first two trades of Sam Keith's The Maxx, and assorted other goodies from the Hobby Star Fan Appreciation Event last weekend. I am also working my way through K. J. Parker's Devices and Desires. In addition, there's a ton of kickass poetry coming out this season, so I think I am going to had to set myself up with some seasonal subscriptions too. Comic books, fantasy novels, and experimental poetry. That's how I roll.

5) Not Having to Go To Bed

This point is key. Poets, you see, see no problem with having an amazing event with tons of cool people and cheap beer on a Tuesday. That has meant that if I could go (sometimes marking DADA reports took precedence) I'd have to teetotal and leave early, which goes against my party style entirely. Now, however, it can be a bloody Monday and I won't have to worry about feeling like death the next day if I have some gin and tonics and close the place down.

Not being a productive member of society isn't such a bad thing after all. I think I'm going to go sit in the sun with some Warren Ellis and start being useless.

Labels: Geekery, Unemployment

(First, a note about my job: I teach in private high school. It is impossible to write this entry without writing a bit about my job, which I have thus far avoided. In order to maintain a suitable barrier of confidentiality [and because my job is weird enough that the metaphor is entirely appropriate], I will refer to my school as Hogwarts and to the classes that I teach as Defense Against the Dark Arts.)

Saturday morning, I woke up to a hangover. I also woke up to an email. My boss, heretofore known as The Headmaster, wrote me to say that a meeting with his boss, The Founder, had not gone as expected. Last week, I was told that I would be teaching at least one DADA class, and would probably be able to pick up a second course in another subject (Potions, perhaps). After spending the week ironing out a schedule, The Headmaster presented his work to The Founder, and was told it had to be drastically rewritten. And by rewritten, he meant cut down. One of the many cuts that was made happened to be to Defense Against the Dark Arts. I went from certainly teaching one class, and probably two, to suddenly teaching nothing this term. As of April 20th, I am effectively unemployed until the end of June.

Up until yesterday, the recession hadn't hit me particularly hard. I am generally poor and underemployed, so an economic situation defined by poverty and underemployment seemed pretty par for the course. Besides, my job seemed removed enough, and strange enough, that no downturn could possibly effect it. I knew that it was a possibility that I would be teaching less (I've even fretted about it on this blog), but I still found myself shocked when I was told to effectively find a way to manage without an income for twelve weeks until Hogwarts could find its way clear to employing me again.

It's not a disaster. I have an incredibly supportive family who are, in a fit of breathtaking generosity, helping to support my unemployment. I also knew that there was the possibility of a layoff, and so for months have been squirreling away cash like a WWII housewife. I will be able to manage. But finding myself in the same situation has made me realize just how many of my friends and colleagues are here with me.

In June, I will be working again. Hogwarts has an amazing contract available for me, teaching a class abroad for a month, and I'll definitely be back into the regular swing for next year's DADA program. But for the next 12 weeks, I am officially laid off.

I'm terrified and poor and not sure what to do with myself. I am also getting excited. I can see a full draft of this manuscript getting finished. I can taste the sleeping in. And above all, I am going to take some very, very good advice and do something spectacular with this time, so that wen my generation finally becomes prosperous again, I'll have something to be damn proud of.

Labels: Anxiety, Rants, Toronto, Unemployment