Since I'm bad with numbers and spreadsheets, I turned my financial woes into a word problem to find out how much money I need to steal to break even this week. If a train leaves Chicago at 9 pm going 45 miles an hour, how quickly can I get over there and lay down on the third rail? Wait, no, same problem, different answer.
This section of the post originally had the full word problem, which I took down because it just made me too uncomfortable. I mean, sure, you don't know me. I don't know you. But really, you do. You know more about me than just about anyone else, and I just don't feel comfortable letting you know exactly how poor I am. It would seem like asking for pity, and I don't want that. Besides, Soon-to-be-Ex-Husband sometimes reads this blog, and he's already made it very clear that he's not going to bail me out, so I don't feel like I need or ought to be telling him that I just don't have enough money.
Although I did have the following conversation today:
Fat Bitchy Director of Student Life: The babysitting service during parent-teacher conferences will cost $5.
Me: I'm sorry. Exsqueeze me? Baking powder? I thought I just heard you say *I* had to pay *you* for the privilege of working two 14-hour days in a row.
FBDoSL: Yeah, and they better be potty-trained.
Me: Bitch, you can bite me.
Later, to my classroom neighbor/friend:
Her: Are you going to take advantage of the babysitting?
Me: I can't. It costs $5.
Her: I know. What a deal, right?
Me: ...I don't have $5.
So, I don't have $5 for babysitting services. You can probably extrapolate from that how much money I don't have for other things, too. God. I hate whining posts about money.
My boss, whom I adore and would eat fire for, likes to have "celebrations" of the things that are going well in our lives. So, in her honor, tonight I would like to celebrate the fact that my nonexistent kitchen sink water pressure has doubled in force to a really reasonable trickle. I can't tell you how happy that tiny fact made me. My finances are in dire straits and the world is in a shambles, but by golly, I filled a pot of water in under 10 minutes, and that makes it all better.*
Tomorrow, my worries about the effect the divorce is having on the children. And... and... isn't there something else going on tomorrow? Something I'm supposed to be doing? Dammit...
*I'm not even joking. Sometimes it's the little things that make you feel better.
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3 comments:
Lack of money sucks. I'm considering taking care of a friend's 15 month old 20 hours/week if her husband gets a different job that requires daycare. I never ever in a million years thought I'd do daycare. It would pay $5/hour before taxes. That turns into a lot of hours for not much. But I could really use that not much if I want student loans to go away before getting pregnant again. I want to be able to take on freelancing/odd jobs because I want them, not because I need them.
Oh -- I recently found out that my husband's upcoming 2 14-hour days for conferences will coincide with Peter getting all of Thanksgiving week off. And somehow I need to get to HIS conference without bringing either boy. Yeah, Dan gets Wed-Fri off, but it'll take three days for all of us to recuperate from the two never-ending days. He teaches all day, then does conferences until 9. Only pre-k has school off.
He's not going to "bail you out?" What does that mean, exactly?
And I'm so sorry - worrying about money on top of everything else sounds like just what you need.
You are in my prayers.
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