It's 77 outside and I'm sitting under my pergola in shade greened from the wisteria and grape climbing between the rafters. I've been shopping at Pike Street Market all morning with a new friend. She moved here from Chicago last year. Yet another transplant who saw and fell in love with Seattle. The first harvest of Rainier cherries and local strawberries is in. I spent the morning walking her through some of my favorite stalls in the market, introducing her to the friends I have there as well as the foods I love. When you're shopping in Pike Street, the vendors usually have samples for you to try before you buy. The predate Costco by some 60 years in that marketing idea.
And about that, there's always a first "demand" "to know" why "you left." Suspicion is the first emotion I note from people in a hiring position. Rarely is it ever curiosity, and then I've only seen curiosity when people are speaking just peer-to-peer. Being unemployed is treated like a disease at first, but then the next emotion to pass over their demeanor is envy - especially as this is such a lovely spring in Seattle. People sigh, and god forbid I mention I was out in the sun, at The Market, on Alki Beach, or wandering the woods of Lincoln Park. One woman's lips zipped so tightly, I thought her seams would burst. She couldn't have been more than 28, 29, or 30.
Quite irresponsible of me, I know. But I am about to return to working on my response email to an Amazon recruiter, giving them five times which would be good to call, I'll be looking up another contact from whom I received an email in LinkedIn. I'm sitting out here on my back patio and I'll work on emails from here. Yes. I deserve your envy.
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