Jobless and Happy

I was fired from my job on Tuesday. It had been a year, I hated the job, and I'm pretty sure that they hated me (at least, the management). I didn't care about that job at all, and it showed. I came in in baggy corduroys and sneakers most days, and would spend a good three to four hours a day dicking around on the internet. Oh well. C'est la vie (did I spell that right?).

Everyone keeps asking me if I'm alright, and telling me they are sorry. I appreciate the sentiments, but here's the long reason why I'm not too distraught:
I'd been trying to find a new job for the past four or five months, to no avail. I wasn't going to just quit with no back up plan, but I was miserable there. I even considered leaving to temp again, because while temping sucks, at least you aren't stuck at any job for too long. Hopefully, I'll get in to law school this fall, and I'd only need to find work for the summer anyway. Well, my company essentially pushed me out the door and handed me two weeks pay, for free. So now, I can start temping again (and I will be, come this Monday) at a legal staffing firm (which pays, all told, about as much as I made at my job), get some valuable law firm experience before I go to school, and never have to see my old boss again. In the meantime, I've taken an afternoon nap every day this week in the hammock on our rooftop deck, and gone on two fantastically long walks through the city during the nicest part of the day. There's a distinct reason why I've had a little spring in my step the last few days.