It's funny how unemployed people fill their days. A former coworker of mine felt so guilty about leaving her job that she punished herself mercilessly. She would wake at the crack of dawn to search want-ads, interview for crappy jobs she didn't really want, pinch her Abe Lincolns until they squealed, and even send friends daily updates on her job hunting efforts, as if we were all keeping tabs on her. On the flip side, another friend took to the road. She found cheap, international adventures, and made weekly calls from places like Guatemala to assure the workforce commission that yes, she was indeed still looking for a job, so please continue to send the unemployment checks to her house.

Watching people muddle or splash their way through unemployed periods has convinced me that when someone you love is without a job, you never know what you're going to get. Me, I got pies.

It started with Thanksgiving, so given the hedonistic traditions of this holiday, I didn't think much about my husband baking eight pies in two days. After three pumpkin, two apple and three different versions of (my favorite) pecan, he was sure we needed to make more time for pastries. This and something he said about the pecan pie becoming his "signature" dessert should have alerted me that something was up.

A few days later, on Day 55 of his status as an Officially Unemployed but Highly Employable Man, I recorded the following observations. In eight hours, my husband:

Tidied up the entire house.
Dusted the living room. (He hates to dust.)
Swept and mopped wood floors in four rooms.
Vacuumed the carpeted bedroom and hallway.
Washed a pile of dirty dishes stacked on two different countertops.
Changed the oil in both cars.
Cleaned the fish tank (which, if you don't know is a time consuming and pain-in-the-ass task.)
Redesigned the fish tank using live plants instead of plastic greenery. (Akin to re-landscaping your backyard garden.)
Emptied the extra garbage can that has been full of 6-month-old refuse and returned it to its new spot in our newly organized garage.
Played fetch with the dog in a backyard void of poop.
Repaired my bicycle.
Bought a 10-day supply of groceries.
Cooked dinner, including dessert.

Though surprised at my husband's productivity that day, I blew it off as nervous energy or guilt. But then during dinner, he says he would like to do something neighborly for our block, like... you know, bake everyone pies. "Pies?" I asked carefully, trying to judge how long he was going to drag on this joke. "Yes, pies," he replied without a hint of humor. "What? Don't you think they would appreciate that?" Slowly I said, "That's not exactly what I was thinking…don't you think…maybe you are…have you considered…oh, never mind…maybe I'll just have another slice."

Weeks later, my husband has since lost or buried that domestic enthusiasm. Our house is not as clean or organized, and there are no homemade baked goods in the kitchen. That suits me fine. I figure nervous energy must be spent in some way, and I count myself lucky that his took a culinary route instead of manifesting itself in something inedible, like tacky chainsaw art.

Living with an Unemployed Man Some days you won't get the busy bee husband. In fact, many days he will drive you to drink with all his moping and bitching. Following is guidance for those days.
	It's not your responsibility to find him a job, remind him to make follow-up calls or tell him he should wake up before noon.
	Resist the temptation to expect that he will do more than his fair share of chores. Shuffling chores is fine, but asking him to double-up will only backfire because he won't be looking for a job or income to pay for, say, a maid to do those chores. (See #3)
	The previous tip is null and void if you work at home and he won't get out of your way during business hours. In this case, insist that he handle all the errands and if necessary, complicate them so it takes up more time. (e.g., Prepare shopping lists that involve visiting six different specialty grocery stores.)
	Avoid discussing his job hunt status with family or friends who are concerned he is becoming a bum but are too afraid to ask him for updates for fear of being labeled nosey. They mean well, but being the your mate's VP of public relations will deplete your energy stores faster than you can spew a "No Comment."
	Guys loathe unsolicited advice, especially if it is career-related. (See #6)
	You are usually the only person alive who can get away with dispensing unsolicited advice, so don't be intimidated by his obstinacy. Still, be judicious when doling out guidance.
	Develop a handful of supportive, career-counseling nuggets to use when you are too weary to give thoughtful advice. These vague, autopilot tips come in handy after a long day of fighting your own work traumas.
	You can try to tell him about good things going on with your work, but don't expect him to react as enthusiastically as you'd hoped. Seek out others to temporarily fill this ego-boosting role.
	Yes, you will probably need to amend your spending habits for now. Just don't get carried away or you will resent him for every nickel you don't get to spend at the shoe store.
	There is a fine line between discussing (in the hopes of solving) relationship problems and trashing your husband with your girlfriends. Never cross it. This is one tip to live by, even when he is gainfully employed. The reason: You will eventually forgive him, while your girlfriends--in an act of female loyalty--will harbor nasty thoughts about him. You'll end up feeling bad about trashing him and angry that your girlfriends are snots. Then you won't have anyone to massage your ego the next time he up and quits his job.