It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood

I live in a pretty nice middle-class neighborhood. Not fancy, but nice. One of the things I've had to get used to since being laid off is being at home all hours of the day.

My old routine was, well, pretty routine for most people. I left my neighborhood early in the morning, often before the sun was up, and then came back in the early evening, often after the sun had set. I was only home all day during the weekends, and that was enough for me.

Now, I'm home most of the time. I have to be. I have to find a job, and the way to do that these days is by sitting in front of this computer, networking, responding to occasional emails for more information, and applying for new jobs online. (My wife has suggested that I also try "cold calling." I'm not so sure that will work these days. But I will probably try it at some point.)

Today, it really is a beautiful day in my neighborhood. The temperature is supposed to extend up into the mid 60s. I have some outside work that I need to do, including pulling up weeds and raking the yard. We have a couple of small tables and a bench on our front porch that all desperately need to be repainted or stained. But I would feel so guilty going outside during a time when I should be out somewhere working, or lacking that, inside looking for a job on this darn computer. Even when I go outside with the dog to get the morning paper, and a car drives by, part of me is worried that the person inside the car has seen me outside my house before and is thinking, "Doesn't that guy have a job? He's sure home a lot."

Paranoid, I know. With a large guilt complex thrown in for good measure.

Why does it have to be so nice outside, anyway? This time last year, we had snow. Lots and lots of snow. It was absolutely gorgeous.

I love my house, I love my neighborhood, but sometimes what I'd really love is to be somewhere else.

And I wish it would snow.