Get a Haircut and Get a Real Job

Well, it was bound to happen. After a week of going strong with seven consecutive posts, the day I decided I just didn't feel like posting arrived...followed by fourteen more. But at least it was an even two weeks (my brain only functions well with neat, round numbers).

I just don't have a whole lot going on to write about at the moment. For the first significant amount of time since I turned 16 and was forced into my premier job as buffet attendant at a hideous chain restaurant, I am unemployed. It was a conscious choice made to get out of an extremely dysfunctional work environment, and I can honestly say I don't regret it for one moment. I would never recommend quitting a job without having another lined up, but in this instance I know I made the right choice. A huge weight was lifted, if the smaller one of near total poverty was added. I love my night job, but teaching part-time just doesn't pay the bills.

Perhaps this person's teacher should have been paid more...or less.

So I am currently relegated to the world of White Rain shampoo, 59 cent stale store brand bread, and giving up those little luxuries like dryer sheets. I now keep track of my gas mileage and can calculate down to the half gallon how much I will need for the week. Hair appointments and the purchasing of new clothes or makeup have come to a grinding halt. I've started cutting coupons. In short, I have become my mother.

USE COUPONS: You'll carry around wads of fifties and look just like Katie Holmes

And it's actually kind of fun. I sort of like going to the store and seeing how much food I can squeeze out of five dollars. I've started picking up the free Wednesday paper instead of waiting 'til I mow to curse at its unsolicited presence in my yard (not to mention the little game I've been forced to play lately called, "How Long Can I Go Without Mowing and Still Avoid Becoming the Neighborhood Pariah"). I channeled Kramer the other night and (literally) cheered my car on home, praying the gas would hold out and feeling triumphant, like I'd won something, when it did.

"...further to the left of the slash than anyone ever dreamed!"

This isn't to make light of the situations of people who are in true, abject poverty. I'm lucky that I have a nice place to live with a very low amount of bills, and I'm extremely thankful for the small income that I'm still bringing in (not to mention the friends who have helped me along the way, but that's a whole other post). As long as I have a roof over my head, food to eat, and running water, I count myself as pretty well off. I know there are millions of people out there who are truly hurting, and I'm sure they don't think of it as a fun game when they're trying to figure out how to feed their families. But since I only have myself to worry about, I can laugh about the days I've eaten peanut butter out of the jar with a spoon for lunch and two heels of bread and butter for dinner, and I'm thinking maybe I'm in exactly the situation I need to be.