Riches

It's funny, how just when you think you've got things figured out, the world can give you the finger and laugh in your face; and then just when things seem about as low as they can be, reality comes swooping in and bonks you on the head with a big ole, "this ain't so bad, sucka".

So the last few weeks have been tough ones (pay cut, house stuff, work stuff, you know...), and they haven't exactly gone the way I would have hoped. Money is tight. TIGHT. And that never seems to help any situation. It adds a heaping scoop of stress on to what might otherwise be normal stress, and then you've got a stress sundae that nobody wants.

But there have been a lot of really good things happening lately too.

For one, John's band has been playing out a lot. Getting noticed. People dance, and sing along. I'm so proud of him, and of them. It's the closest that he's gotten yet to living out his dream, and that is a thrilling thing to watch.

For another, as a result of John being so busy with the band, I've been pretty busy myself, hanging out with people I work with and generally being social. I've been trying new restaurants, attending new sports (ROLLER DERBY), and enjoying the shit out of things.

And one comment that keeps coming up, again and again lately, is how people are jealous of, inspired by, and wishful because of, my relationship with John. Now, I've long thought that we are some of the lucky ones, but it's something you can lost sight of in the midst of stress sundaes. We love each other. And not in the afterthought sort of, "yeah, of course we love each other" sort of way that I see out there in the world. We really adore each other. We respect each other. I have a crush on him. When I roll over and he is there, in the middle of the night, it's the best part of my life. I'm proud of him for his music and I want to kick his ass and tell him to do more. And he kicks mine. And he buys ice cream when I need it and rubs my feet without me asking him to, and he gives me hugs that feel like there's nowhere and noone else in the world. I think we're pretty awesomely lucky.

So in the middle of this stress sundae, this crazy roller coaster that the past few months have been... in the middle of having zero extra dollars... today I recognize that while I may have no money, I have riches. I have friends who want to hang out, places to go, and the best marriage I've seen in a while. I have a partner in crime who wants to get into trouble with me and also sit on the couch and have movie marathons with me. I have some asshole cats who love me. I have a lot.

And I'm thankful for all of it. Even the shitty parts. Because they make everything else sparkle.

10%

We have been given a 10% paycut at work. Because of the economy.

Because things are tough all around.

Because.

Because if we hadn't, they would have had to lay off four people.

Today, I am thinking about what that 10% means to me. To each of us.

It's not so much, really. Just over a hundred dollars per paycheck.

But that money? That was our "going out to dinner" money. Our "let's go see a movie".

Our "oh shit the car needs to be fixed."



Our Valentines Day.



Our dryer.

Our rainy day fund.

Our morning coffee.

And I'm happy to give it up, to make sure that the people around me have jobs, and so do I. I'm invested in this company. In making sure that we all keep going.

But I want to be sure the company is invested back in me. I'm busting my butt to get it back, and then some.

To them, it's just 10%. Just for a few months. But to me, it's a lot.

Good Natured

A couple weeks ago, spurred by the energy and enthusiasm of a new employee at work, we started a Thursday night ritual of going out for drinks. Because, let's face it, by Thursday, who doesn't need a cocktail or five?

Two Thursdays ago, we went to McKee's, a neighborhood hangout with cheap beer and cheaper clientele.

And this is where I interject into the story to explain a few things.

1. I am not totally happy with myself, the way I am right now.
2. I'm not sure what to do about it.

I'll come right out and say it. I'm heavier than I should be. I have been for a few years. It gets better, and then it gets worse, but I can't seem to really master this. I've tried diets, tried working out, tried hating myself, tried coming to peace with it. I've gotten mad at myself, forgiven myself, read books and cried. Nothing seems to help it. I can lose about 5 lbs, and then, just nothing. For weeks. And then I give up. And I know, I know, I could try harder, or get help, but its embarrassing. And I haven't. So, whatever.

Needless to say, I'm sensitive about it.

So on this particular night, at this particular bar, I was out with a couple beautiful women that I work with. Tall women. Thin women.

And this old crone weaved her way through the crowd, clutching her vodka and tonic and wearing a pink sweatsuit.

Let's just pause there. A PINK. SWEATSUIT.

Please understand, I have taken this information into account.

She was also missing teeth.

Nuff said.

Anyway she stumbled over to us, clutching her drink and her cane, and said to my raven haired co-worker, "You're good looking." We all sort of laughed, weird as it was.

She then turned to me.

"And you! You're good natured!!! Most fat girls are."

I felt like someone had punched me. Everyone kept laughing.

"You're not so fat, for a fat girl, because you've got big boobs to balance you out. My cousin is Dolly Parton, and she's got HUGE knockers. But she's not fat at all, like you."

Everyone laughed around me, and the bar became way too loud, and I couldn't breathe. I was so mortified.

I left, and got in the car and went home, crying quietly the whole way.
See, I know this shouldn't matter so much. This woman was ridiculous, and missing teeth. But why does this happen to me? Over and over again. I've been focused on the house, and my job, and surviving the last few months of living, under considerable stress. But.

I don't ever want this to happen to me again.
Ever.

Nuff said.