Adjusting to Housewife-dom

I'm coming up on a month of being unemployed. Contrary to what you might imagine, I'm keeping myself quite busy as a stay-at-home wife and pug mom. I never eat bonbons nor do I turn on the TV. How do I pass my days? So glad you asked!

• I have FBG, of course, which takes up a good chunk of my time and keeps my professional skillz sharp.

• Applying for jobs so I can remain gainfully unemployed. I have to prove that I'm looking for work, so I have to keep track of where I send my resumes and the result. The results so far? No one is banging down my door, but I expect that soon.

• Calling the trash company when they decided to skip our house. Twice. It was attributed to laziness. At least they're honest.

• Painting, spackling, cleaning, cooking. It makes Alan and I feel like we've stepped back in time when he comes home and dinner is ready. Granted, I did most of the cooking before I was unemployed, but now that it's all I have to do, there is definitely a 50s-housewife dynamic that wasn't there before. Next thing you know I'll start using rollers in my hair.
  

• Dealing with conniving car dealers. Seeing as how the Saturn now has 155,000 miles on it (God bless her), we decided now was the time to go ahead and get a second vehicle. We've been a one-car family since we moved to California in 2007, so I feel very spoiled having the Saturn during the day (the Saturn, a luxury). Except that the Saturn has been in the shop since Saturday. But we've got to keep her purring; I'll be damned if she decides to keel over on me now, leaving us in the same one-car boat.

  But I digress. The point of this bullet is that car dealers are thieves! After a Shady McShade-a-lot experience at one dealership—in which Alan pulled out one-liners that made me both proud to have picked him and want to make out with him on the spot—we had a wonderful buying experience at the next dealership. Until we got home and the numbers weren't matching up. We'd opted for a remote starter for the car, a pricey little bonus, but one that would make morning commutes just a littler toastier a little more quickly. Except for the fact that Mr. Finance failed to tell us about a hefty little $300 install fee on top of the price. He'd even written down the cost of the equipment when he was trying to upsell us, NEVER mentioning this $300. So furious am I about the blatant deception that I am still "working it out" with him. I think he thinks I'll give up. LITTLE DOES HE KNOW I HAVE NOTHING BETTER TO DO WITH MY TIME.