About that.
So when things like this happen, I try to focus on other things. Like how super thankful I am that I said someone could send my name out as a good sub last spring. Because it didn't just go building wide, it went district wide. I went in to sub for someone on Wednesday and another teacher approached me about subbing for her; she kept telling me how familiar my name was but neither of us could figure out why. We did finally figure it out and I ended up subbing for her two days in a row. And she's keeping my name for future reference.
I also processed 7 pints of dill pickles this afternoon. There would have been white chili but the chicken is still a giant frozen brick in the bottom of the fridge. Hopefully by tomorrow it will have thawed and I can throw everything in the crock pot.
Other silly things come to mind... like this ring. Which fit my right ring finger when I got it [it was a fabulous fake engagement ring in a pinch]. When I was in graduate school I could wear it on the middle finger of my right hand. I put it on the other day and it almost fell off. It now also fits on the thumb of my left hand. It's scary to think that my left thumb and right index finger are the same size.
I see things about how this is the worst economy since the Great Depression and I wonder sometimes how accurate those statements are. And then I remember that I'm part of the unemployed 15% in the region, which is exporting jobs and families. I kind of need families to do my job because families support schools with their taxes and send their kids to school, which in turn gives me a reason to work [totally oversimplified I know, but...] I'm not buying pickles, I'm making them in quantity, otherwise I wouldn't be eating pickles if I wanted to this winter. I'd rather not spend my time making pickles, but it's more cost effective. And I'm dying for a blinkin' dill pickle. On a sandwich. And not a PB&J. And I have an extensive J cabinet. [the apricot mango peach jam is a particularly good accompaniment to "I-have-no-groceries-Curry"; serve with orzo and pretend it's rice]
I stood in a food line today and watched students from my recent alma matter laugh and joke uneasily with each other before offering free testing services to those below the150% poverty mark. The woman beside me was asking about what they offered and then reminded them it wouldn't take much for them to be standing in that line. An accident or massive closures whereever they worked. Something. Which is when it occured to me that last year, I was one of those students, and now I was on the other side of the line. Because the economy is still in the tank. 150% below the poverty line, waiting for food, barely able to feed my cat. True, I could have moved south. I could have just moved anywhere. Thanks, Grandpa, for dying on me, and thank you, me, for being more attatched than I realized and not being able to pull myself together when opportunity was knocking.
I don't think I would be this angsty if I was still waiting for people to pay me for work I did in August. Seriously, people, I have a cat. Which is not the same thing as a child, but I am still responsible for a small, living, breathing organism that cries. And also beats me in the face.
