Livin' On A Prayer


“I am as poor as Job, my lord, but not so patient:
your lordship may minister the potion of
imprisonment to me in respect of poverty; but how
should I be your patient to follow your
prescriptions, the wise may make some dram of a
scruple, or indeed a scruple itself.”
~William Shakespeare, Henry IV (Act 1, Scene 2)

I am officially, quite literally, livin’ on a prayer. Again. Tommy & Gina had it better. At least they had each other. Lord knows… I’m not even living on actual money. I never see money. Not cash, anyway. Not really. Not anymore. Who am I kidding? Paycheck to paycheck is nothing new. I’ve been livin’ on the same prayer for just about every day of my holy-crap-I-now-have-to-be-the-adult life.

It’s getting tight.
Tighter.
Too tight.
Am I wheezing?
Gasp.

The cost of gasoline went up another fifteen cents per gallon today.
How long would it take a fat girl to walk 14 miles (one way) to work?
I sure as hell wouldn’t be the fat girl for too much longer, would I?
This is not a good plan.
Yet.

Suddenly life with that camel herder my brother tried to sell me to in Israel when I was eleven doesn’t seem quite so disturbing anymore. Simpler, yes? (Truly you know I jest.) I could have had my pick of any number of Masai warriors too…

Dear (Whoever has the power),
I’m pretty sure the lot of us truly can’t continue to make it if these startling economic trends continue. Even I, the one who loathes all things math related and who is not entirely politically savvy, can see without any sort of correctional vision instrument that things are fucked the hell way up. Fix it. Do something other than talk. I am in no need of a hand out. I work. I always have. While nice at the time, that pididdly stimulus check I got a few years ago… along with most of America, solved nothing. Let’s not try that again. And, I know I need to lose weight and all but starving myself just so my children have food to eat is really not an ideal option. Niether is walking 14 miles to work. It hasn’t come to that but, damn it, we’re sure heading in that direction. Full. Speed. Ahead. Can you not see the inevitable crash coming? Something must be done.
Sincerely,
Speeding rapidly from lower middle class to borderline poverty,
One of 13(+) million single parents in the USA,
Frustrated as hell,


P.S. – If I could move back to Kenya then I would be there already.
P.P.S. – If you leave me some sort of ridiculous political comment or bash any past or future President of the United States on this post then I will delete it without hesitation. Take your debate elsewhere.

Conscious Song


Those who wish to sing, always find a song. ~Swedish Proverb

There is a lady here at work who has the single most thankless job in hospitality. She is a housekeeper. You may think you know what takes place in hotel rooms but unless you have worked in the industry for any length of time then, trust me, you are clueless. Nastiest. Job. Ever.

This is a job that I could not do… for any amount of money. If times were even more tough than they are now (God forbid.) and I had to resort to cleaning up after the filth of humanity in hotel rooms… I definitely wouldn’t do it with a smile. Well, I would smile, customer service and all that, but there would be no truth in the grin. No joy.

She smiles.

This lovely lady with this horrible job… she smiles. A lot. And, she means it. Every day. She has a past, as we all do, and it wasn’t a particularly pleasant or happy one... at least, not a lot of it. And still, she smiles. She also has this theory that every woman on the planet should be told that she is beautiful… Every. Single. Day.

She smiles. She smiles and she greets me and my other female coworkers with “Hello beautiful!” or “Good morning beautiful lady(ies)!”… Every. Single. Day.

This amazing woman has made a conscious choice to be happy and to make others feel appreciated and beautiful and to do her job with joy.

I wish, with every fiber of my being, that her attitude was highly contagious so that those around her would begin singing the same song.

Personally? I’ll be content if I can manage the oomph to simply hum along.

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