We need to talk.

Well, Unemployment, it's been a roller-coaster 159 days. We've had our good times and our bad times. I remember when we first met, I didn't know where to start. It was such a new feeling. One I'd been looking forward to for years, but still entirely unfamiliar.

Not knowing what to do at first, I found some distractions. Went for some long bike rides. Explored some foreign lands. Got a new limb on the family tree. Moved far, far away. Ate a lot of hamburgers and drank a lot of beers. But eventually I realized our relationship (and my savings account) could not last forever.

So, Unemployment, I'm leaving you. Or rather, I'm kicking you out. I would like your bags to be packed by the time I leave the house tomorrow. Please don't forget to take your Fritos, your Price is Right, and your crowd-free mid-day trips to the grocery store. I have no use for them anymore. I will be holding onto sleeping late for the time being, though. Unfinished business.

We did have some great days, you and I. Remember the week we discovered the glory of free D.C. pools? Or the time we walked three miles in the brutal summer heat to the Natural History Museum just to look at the giant sloths one last time? These are pleasant memories that I shall cherish always. But lately, you've just been getting on my nerves. You're in the way. Preventing me from being all that I can be. And that just won't work. So it's time to say goodbye.

We both know there's always a chance we'll run into each other in the future. But please, let's keep that contact brief. We owe it to ourselves to stay apart and see what kind of lives we can lead on our own. Just know that deep down inside, I do miss you.

We'll always have Meat Cove.