Ah, the third glorious day in the unemployment line. This called for a stiff drink.
Well, technically Richard supposed it was only the second day. While blowing off two days of work had been the final straw as far as his bosses were concerned, he hadn't actually received the news until showing up to work on the second. Trying to explain himself had seemed both stupid and dangerous, so he had merely taken the tiny cardboard box of his things that the secretary had given him and left. It was, without a doubt, the shortest job he had ever held.
At least things seemed to have calmed down since then. Two days of relative peace probably shouldn't feel like such an achievement. Meanwhile, he was trying not to think about the radio gig. There hadn't been any real news about it for a while, and worrying too much felt like jinxing it. Just one more thing that he was getting particularly good at avoiding in his thoughts.
Still, he now had lots of excess free time. Which meant he was going to need to stock up the apartment, since his excuses for eating fast had just disappeared. As he wheeled through the store his basket filled accordingly- a whole lot of baking things, raw meat, half a dozen boxes of those tiny frozen pizzas, and some very nice whiskey. He was standing in the cereal isle, wondering whether to give in to the temptation of fried chicken and cornflakes, when who should roll around the corner than Vanessa. She looked preoccupied, probably caught up in the music in her head. But maybe she was just what the doctor ordered. Richard waved, hoping to catch her eye.