Workless

Unemployment is fun for the first two weeks. You revel in sleeping late, spending hours at the gym without having to rush off anywhere, you fall asleep at night blissfully free from worrying about all the stupid things you did at work that day and wondering if there will be consequences tomorrow.
And then after two weeks you suddenly start feeling like a parasite, a waste of space and oxygen, a drain on society who doesn't even deserve the ground you walk on or the library books you take out. You wander around in your sloppy shorts in the middle of the day and you look at the people in their business clothes and enviously think about how they have jobs, how they know that they are earning income and not slowly, torturously draining their savings dry.
I know that once I'm working again I'll complain about my schedule and there will be a whole new slew of mistakes to worry about pre-slumber. But at least I'll be able to appreciate my downtime again.