I’ve had only one past life that I can remember.
I was a man of European descent in my mid-forties at some point. Well-off financially living in either the late 1700s or early 1800s. I favored a hand-tailored brown suit and was irritated by modern technological advances. When the phone rings in the middle of the night in my present life, Mr Former Life [MFL] sighs heavily and wishes for the premature death of Alexander Graham Bell whom he always thought to be a pretentious overeducated twit.
Perhaps in that life, I often thought if I could better see how the other half lived, I could write better public policy in my position of moderate influence. Or, maybe, I lost a bet. Because here I am—single mother of three at the lowest demographic end of the U.S. pay scale. Yes, for equal jobs, it goes white men, black men, some other men, white women, everybody else, then black women. I got to keep my education, apparently, in the reincarnation. That must have been some school my past life attended. Cambridge, perhaps. Or Ole Miss.
The start date of my new contract was pushed back to Thursday, although I am attending orientation today. The baby’s new day care does not pro-rate weekly rates, so the baby will attend the entire week since I have to pay for the entire week. I hope I get some cleaning done on Tuesday and Wednesday. Puppy training was on Sunday morning. Jordan was, as usual, the most attentive student of the group. By the end of the two hours, she was the only one of the four of us still paying any attention. We got tips, treats and clickers. The dog got a crated nap after a whole bunch of sits, comes, lay downs and look at mees. Five more weeks to go. Somewhere in there I’ll repair the chewed up vacuum cord, Nintendo DS charger and baseboards. Q already took care of Jordan’s laptop power adapter. Five more weeks to go.
I’ve found myself attacked by mommy marketing. Holy shit, I’m no longer interested in my own giveaway which began as a way to fully use my monthly subscription for design templates. I thought that was a good thing until I landed in this crazy world of review blogs, sponsored posts, $500 blog marketing conferences and Twitterklatsches. MFL has locked himself in his book-lined study, refusing food or water, toggling between ESPN and Big Brother After Dark.
Your own past lives in comments…
Congrats on the job, Erica! I’m so happy for you, even though I know how tough it is to start a new thing after months of being broke. I hope you at least get a nice tax refund this year. I also hope your new job goes smoothly.
Give the kids — and you! — a hug from me.
@Jane, well, the good thing about my suddenly unaffordable car note was I was able to get the new car tax credit for my refund. Without it, I would have owed money. The new job looks like a good fit talent- and personality-wise. Thanks for the well wishes…