When I first moved to NYC in 2010, I arrived without a job. I was, of course, the trailing spouse as my wife had arrived to Manhattan with a lucrative banking job downtown. Every day, I would wake up late, shower and eat breakfast, and then walk two blocks up the street to my favorite coffee shop in all of New York, a yellow and brown facaded Italian cafe which no longer exists called SiCafe. It was mostly frequented by affluent Upper East Side folks and college students (Hunter College was located just a block away). With my laptop in hand, I’d order my standard cappuccino and take my spot near the picture window in front. Then I would begin searching for jobs online. One particular day, I found myself becoming very frustrated over my fruitless job search, and so I penned the following:    

What if being unemployed held some special power?