Three months without a job
It’s not enough time to rest for even a little bit
The air carries oxygen and poplar puffs. It’s getting less puffy with every new day…or more puffy?… I can’t tell. The spring has come so early to Kyiv this year that it’s already summer in May. Shorts, jeans, t-shirts and occasional dresses are walking around the city. A dog fetches a red ball and runs around me before returning to its human. I don’t know dog breeds so to me any dog is just a dog. I sit on a green hill in the Park of Eternal Glory and look at the Dnipro River and the left bank of Kyiv behind it. The other Kyiv that I rarely visit. The one with hundreds of skyscrapers, dozens of residential complexes and a few beaches. Their sands get busy hosting human bodies when the water is warm and clean enough. The beaches are almost empty now. It’s not because it’s not warm enough. It’s because today is Monday, and people are busy working.
I’m the only one who’s not working this Monday.
I’m sure that isn’t true, but when you don’t work for a while it feels like that – you’re the only one doing nothing
Am I doing nothing?
No, that statement is definitely incorrect.
In three months since leaving my job, I’ve done some things, maybe even important and substantial things for my future.
