(no subject)
Earlier tonight, I twittered: Dear get-rich-quick people that keep following me: I have a net worth of $104 (not a typo) and I am okay with that. Now go away.
That doesn't do justice to where I am right now. Financially, we are scraping the bottom and have our fingers crossed that an interview later today turns the months-long tide of underemployment without being overly optimistic.
What money can't touch is everything I do have:
- A healthy, funny and intelligent mini-me who still thinks I'm cool;
- A patient husband who practically worships the ground I walk on, even after two head injuries and the awkward process of getting him a continuity of care to keep tabs on his brain and blood chemistry;
- Amazing friends that know all kinds of things I've only got the barest cognizance of and have surprised me with their kindness when I've needed it most;
- A family that loves me unconditionally and lets me play with the kids even though I gave them strange nicknames;
- A cat that follows me everywhere and tolerates Laurel picking him up and putting him on her doll bed;
- Surprisingly nimble fingers for poking, prodding and stitching things together, which I am lucky enough to do for pleasure;
- An easy time acquiring new skills and memorizing things;
- Living in a place that is in a fairly walkable area and in the catchment for one of the best elementary schools in the state; and
- Good luck that shows up at the strangest times.
So there it is.
...
Also, I have a lot more canning jars than I thought I did, but as we get into vacuum-packed bags, they're handy for storing the contents of opened bags. All those jars of granulated sugar are another story. (We bought a 25-pound bag a few years ago. In hindsight, a giant bag of flour and a more modest amount of sugar makes more sense with the amount of baking I do.)
That doesn't do justice to where I am right now. Financially, we are scraping the bottom and have our fingers crossed that an interview later today turns the months-long tide of underemployment without being overly optimistic.
What money can't touch is everything I do have:
- A healthy, funny and intelligent mini-me who still thinks I'm cool;
- A patient husband who practically worships the ground I walk on, even after two head injuries and the awkward process of getting him a continuity of care to keep tabs on his brain and blood chemistry;
- Amazing friends that know all kinds of things I've only got the barest cognizance of and have surprised me with their kindness when I've needed it most;
- A family that loves me unconditionally and lets me play with the kids even though I gave them strange nicknames;
- A cat that follows me everywhere and tolerates Laurel picking him up and putting him on her doll bed;
- Surprisingly nimble fingers for poking, prodding and stitching things together, which I am lucky enough to do for pleasure;
- An easy time acquiring new skills and memorizing things;
- Living in a place that is in a fairly walkable area and in the catchment for one of the best elementary schools in the state; and
- Good luck that shows up at the strangest times.
So there it is.
...
Also, I have a lot more canning jars than I thought I did, but as we get into vacuum-packed bags, they're handy for storing the contents of opened bags. All those jars of granulated sugar are another story. (We bought a 25-pound bag a few years ago. In hindsight, a giant bag of flour and a more modest amount of sugar makes more sense with the amount of baking I do.)