![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
The house was a mess but he didn't care
Mar. 15th, 2004 01:11 pmHe quit his job and took a month-long holiday in Brasil. He spent his money on caipirinhas, worked on his tan, swan in the sea. Nothing had changed when he got back to England: the island still reeked of mildew, the sky was as pasty as the bleary-eyed passengers in the Tube, and the food still tasted like boiled cardboard. But it wasn’t true that nothing had changed; there was one thing: he no longer wanted to work.
He looked in his bank account and did some calculations. At the rate he was going he could afford to be on the dole for another month. Then the situation would be critical. When the money was spent, he would have to accept any grimy job, any dull secretarial position, any desparate janitor vacancy. Anything that could pay the rent.
His boyfriend Karl tried to be understanding but, deep down, he suspected Karl wasn’t too happy. Perhaps Karl wasn’t terribly thrilled with his ideas of dropping everything and escaping England.
To make matters worse, it was a Monday morning and he was home. He peered out of his 4th floor window and saw the lemmings trudging to work or pulling their children by the hand to the nearest school. He thought about the piles of books on the coffee table which he could read. He thought about taking a bath with Candle and it’s nine little friends, or making some coffee (not instant). Nothing seemed to satisfy him. It was hopeless: he didn’t want a job but he also didn’t want to sit at home doing nothing.
Finally, he decided to write something in his Livejournal. It would help pass the time and, perhaps, amuse one of the many introverts who read his words. He picked up a pen and jotted down the following words: “He quit his job and took a month-long holiday in Brazil.”
He looked in his bank account and did some calculations. At the rate he was going he could afford to be on the dole for another month. Then the situation would be critical. When the money was spent, he would have to accept any grimy job, any dull secretarial position, any desparate janitor vacancy. Anything that could pay the rent.
His boyfriend Karl tried to be understanding but, deep down, he suspected Karl wasn’t too happy. Perhaps Karl wasn’t terribly thrilled with his ideas of dropping everything and escaping England.
To make matters worse, it was a Monday morning and he was home. He peered out of his 4th floor window and saw the lemmings trudging to work or pulling their children by the hand to the nearest school. He thought about the piles of books on the coffee table which he could read. He thought about taking a bath with Candle and it’s nine little friends, or making some coffee (not instant). Nothing seemed to satisfy him. It was hopeless: he didn’t want a job but he also didn’t want to sit at home doing nothing.
Finally, he decided to write something in his Livejournal. It would help pass the time and, perhaps, amuse one of the many introverts who read his words. He picked up a pen and jotted down the following words: “He quit his job and took a month-long holiday in Brazil.”
