People tell me this weekend is Memorial Day.

These people are still employed and use calendars to organize work meetings. I, on the other hand, don’t have much use for a calendar since every day is Unemployed in My Pajamas Day. So it’s no surprise that important dates and major holidays go unnoticed.

But back to Memorial Day. Three days off! Beer and barbecues! Wearing white shoes without guilt! Forget the scientific solstice. This is the start to summer. The weekend every working stiff has been waiting for.

But what about us non-working stiffs?  A summer vacation doesn’t seem necessary when you’ve been involuntary vacationing for months. Without a job, this end of May seems to have the complete opposite effect. Instead of looking forward to 80 degree weather and cutting out early, I’m dreading how hot my apartment will get without AC. And how that bathing suit I’ve been eying isn’t exactly top priority now that Uncle Sam signs the checks. Stupid recession, stop trying to ruin my June, July and August.

All this guilt has left me wondering- how the heck should I spend my summer now that a job isn’t standing in the way?

Well, all the weeks I was stuck inside and behind a desk I dreamed of warm days doing what I wanted. Yoga classes. Going to the beach once a week. Picnics and window shopping. Catching up on reading and writing. Not the most economic or career advancing, but maybe good for the soul. So there’s that option.

On the other end of the spectrum, I could give into the fear known as my plummeting savings account and pick up some waitressing shifts around town.  Job search by day and “Hi-my-name-is-Jackie-I’ll-be-your-server” by night. I’ve done it before and it’s not ideal, but nowadays not much is.

Or I could spend my summer doing something that will make the rest of the year better. Maybe even great. Dare I say profitable? I could take classes on SEO and learn how to get more hits for my blog. Bug a friend to teach me how to write grants and start freelancing for non-profits. Scrounge up change under the couch (aka my office) and visit friends at agencies I’d love to write for. Work on my book at the public library and bask in the free central air. And the schedule is mine for the making, so a day sunbathing shouldn’t be too hard to squeeze in either.

My id, ego and superego have their picks. But there’s only one summer that sounds as relaxing and resume-building. A compromise. I can have my ice cream cake and eat it too. Plus on the off chance my future employer asks the question, “How’d you spend your summer vacation?” I know I’ll have the killer answer: This summer I found the balance between working for a living, and living.