Ah, the joys of being unemployed. Lolling around in your pajamas all day, watching soap operas and Oprah, trying out those complicated recipes, going to the gym at off hours - WRONG. It sucks. Watching every penny, hoping that your friends will invite you to dinner and give you a doggy bag to bring home.

It's been 18 months now and I find myself without a job, without a husband (herein after known as Ostrich Man) and in posession of a huge behemoth of a house with little chance of selling it. I had a real estate agent friend come over on Friday and she basically held her nose and said "I think the land might be worth something".

There are, however, things that you can do to make it work. Have you ever been to the Dollar Store? My daughter, Chloe, turned me on to it last week. Since then I have been to it three times. Everything is literally a dollar and they have lots of stuff that I would normally buy at the super market. Toiletries, cleaning supplies, kitchen stuff, and even food!

This morning I humbled myself and went to apply for food stamps and Medicade. What does one wear to such an appointment? This dilemma could have been avoided by making a preliminary visit to the public aid office and noting the attire of the assembled hoi-polloi. What a motley crew, but very well behaved and quiet. I finally settled on some blue jeans and a thrift store shirt. Perfect! I was the only caucasian there, which in itself set me apart. I was glad that I hadn't worn those Donald J. Pliner sandals that were on the clearance rack at Marshall's.

It turns out that I make too much money on unemployment checks to qualify for any aid. How do people do it? What do they live on? I guess I am going to find out.

Ostrich Man says he wants to talk about a budget. Will that include the payments to his illegitimate child's mother? The dinners he buys for his girlfriend? His new bachelor pad? I doubt it. But still - he does pay the mortgage. And then he wants to know if I want to go out to dinner!!! What planet I ask you????