Unemployment and Wodehouse

It is only fitting that my change in employment is accompanied by a return to Wodehouse. Wodehouse has marked all my periods of unemployment - the complete Wooster and Jeeves in the summer of 2010 before business school; the intermittent Wodehouse in 2012 after business school and the complete Psmith in 2014 before starting my last job.

This realization a few hours ago sent me into full-blown panic mode that was only calmed by writing the previous sentence. Now, I feel a false sense of security with the realization that instead of being an unwelcome guest every couple of years, Wodehouse is visiting after a long four-year break. By invitation. While I would much rather be deliriously happy and high on life to need Wodehouse, I will take this small win and hope that this is the last time I am subconsciously drawn to Wodehouse to lift my spirits. Nothing against you or your brilliance, Dear Sir, but even thinking of you is conceding that life is less than optimal. Banished you are, forthwith, till an Aunt Dahlia adopts me or I become an Aunt Dahlia, whichever comes first.

4/22 Update: Wodehouse is such an easy, breezy, pleasant read. His choice of words is exact in that the heavy words play up the absurdity of most plots and serve as an excellent medium to juxtapose class and education without preaching. I, thoroughly inspired by him and with all my ICSE vocabulary, describe his writing as perfectly droll.  Having already finished one volume in less than 24 hours (hence the easy, breezy comment), I am now tasked with the unthinkable - whether or not to read another and ignore the deeper, subconscious message such an act conveys. My predicament can be aptly summarized in one word - Ugh. I'm sure Wodehouse would never have thought of Bertie saying "ugh" when cornered. Freespirit - 1, Wodehouse - 0. Inconsequential victory when I'm still undecided on the additional read. Freespirit - 1, Wodehouse - 10,000. Ugh.