Friday, July 25, 2008
sugar for my bowl.
my mom sent us an anniversary gift, with a note saying that when she and my dad were first married, they kept their extra cash in a sugar bowl. (we had a sugar bowl? i've never seen it. maybe i broke it as a child.) since she wasn't sure we had 1) a sugar bowl, or B) any extra cash, she sent us the little sugar dealie from our wedding china pattern. with a hundred bucks in it.
my mom knew, even before she happened to call the other day and i was a little sniffly from worry and guilt, that we are in some financial wonkiness. nothing earth-shaking, in fact i'm sure that there are some folks who would laugh at my calling it "difficult" that the budget goes back to zero about one week before anyone gets paid, and the student loan interest just keeps deferring while i fling money at an outrageously unnecessary pastime. we're not in danger of losing our apartment, we don't eat flapjacks at every meal, not nearly anything like that. i guess what's going on is financial unease combined with some really roaring guilt on my part for having gotten us out here, in debt from my school and the move that it precipitated, and then failing to find full time work during the summer, and then signing up for a fricking acting class that costs as much per month as the payment on our HELOC.
i know. i know it's irresponsible. but i felt like i needed it, in an important way that i can't really articulate. i guess because i was losing some chops, but also because i felt like was losing part of me that i really want to hold on to as i transition into whatever i'm transitioning into. not only do i not want to not be able to do anymore, i want to make sure i can teach. that was always the plan. and i think the perfect recipe for making that difficult is to stay out of the studio completely for four or five years. the guilt gets worse when i think about how i get to take this class and the monkey doesn't, and he's the big actor. gah. we've talked about it and he's being so nice. so nice about my financial irresponsibility.
if it breaks us, i can quit. in the meantime, i'm trusting the feeling that this is important and necessary. and remembering how i paid our way when we got here, right after the move, when the monkey had a hard time finding work. to everything, turn, turn turn.
so, yeah. it's the kind of summer where a hundred bucks means the difference between sleeping through the night and waking up with the what ifs. my mom is a lovely person.
my mom knew, even before she happened to call the other day and i was a little sniffly from worry and guilt, that we are in some financial wonkiness. nothing earth-shaking, in fact i'm sure that there are some folks who would laugh at my calling it "difficult" that the budget goes back to zero about one week before anyone gets paid, and the student loan interest just keeps deferring while i fling money at an outrageously unnecessary pastime. we're not in danger of losing our apartment, we don't eat flapjacks at every meal, not nearly anything like that. i guess what's going on is financial unease combined with some really roaring guilt on my part for having gotten us out here, in debt from my school and the move that it precipitated, and then failing to find full time work during the summer, and then signing up for a fricking acting class that costs as much per month as the payment on our HELOC.
i know. i know it's irresponsible. but i felt like i needed it, in an important way that i can't really articulate. i guess because i was losing some chops, but also because i felt like was losing part of me that i really want to hold on to as i transition into whatever i'm transitioning into. not only do i not want to not be able to do anymore, i want to make sure i can teach. that was always the plan. and i think the perfect recipe for making that difficult is to stay out of the studio completely for four or five years. the guilt gets worse when i think about how i get to take this class and the monkey doesn't, and he's the big actor. gah. we've talked about it and he's being so nice. so nice about my financial irresponsibility.
if it breaks us, i can quit. in the meantime, i'm trusting the feeling that this is important and necessary. and remembering how i paid our way when we got here, right after the move, when the monkey had a hard time finding work. to everything, turn, turn turn.
so, yeah. it's the kind of summer where a hundred bucks means the difference between sleeping through the night and waking up with the what ifs. my mom is a lovely person.
