The question wasn’t necessarily out of the ordinary. “Dad, why is there no milk or yogurt in the fridge?” But when I opened up the door spilling light on the contents within, I realized we were like that character in the “Fight Club.” We had a fridge full of condiments and not much else. And strange condiments they are, considering my cooking habits. Fermented lemons, Costa Rican pepper sauce,
The truth is we’re thinning down the typical grocery budget, and twice in the last week things have looked pretty basic in the Akimoff refrigerator. We’re down to the last two weeks of severance money, and we’ve now received our fourth notice from the state of Montana stating our unemployment benefit status is still pending.
So it’s time to pack it up, which is kind of tough not knowing if there is a job out there or not. But we’ve got a bunch of family just a 10-hour drive away.
The most difficult part was putting the house up for rent just a few weeks shy of a year since we bought it and moved in. I didn’t think it would bother me, but after talking to my wife this afternoon, I realized the ridiculousness of it all, and we spent one last warm afternoon sunning on the deck watching the neighborhood go by.
It’s strange to have a hard target. A job would be a hard target, but it would be a good thing. I’d know we could make a living. But a hard target driven by a rapidly diminishing severance package is another entity. It’s filled with a sense of unknown and maybe a dash of foreboding.
Tonight I’m going to stock the cupboard with cereal and make sure I bring milk and yogurt in from the outside fridge. If for no other reason than to make the next two weeks a little less stressful on little minds.