In a good way. Well, sort of.
There is just SO much work. I am one person and there are so, so many federal mandates to follow. I am lucky that Elly, my secretary, has become an expert in two short weeks on billing and filing government papers.
I don't have to be bothered much with the ins and outs of the paperwork process, but the little I do have to accomplish makes me ready to scream. And it amazes me how little there is to offer to the so many who need help.
We are exploring the grant process to see if we can somehow fund a few projects. But, in the meantime, we just don't tell anyone no. Even those that we know will never pay us. Maybe we can be like Atticus Finch and have someone pay us in hickory nuts. One woman paid half of her bill today and actually brought a bag of coins and painstakingly counted out nickels and dimes.
Much of our work is paid for by the government. Some is pro bono, for those who slip in between the cracks. I am talking about the working poor. Those who don't qualify for government aid because they...um...WORK. One of our clients is the son of a waitress who works loooonnnngg shifts and sometimes when she brings him in for his session, she is limping because her feet hurt so badly. And yet, she qualifies for nothing. If she quit her job and sat home, she might fare better. But, she wants to be a role model, so she works.
I can't ever sit there and complain because my head hurts or I am nauseated. I have a home. A nice home. Good food on the table for dinner. Money for extras. This, I know, is bliss.
I was still glad that it was friday today, though. I am ready to rest up.
Although, I won't be sleeping in tomorrow. Liv is spending the night at a friend's house tonight and we don't pick her up until tomorrow afternoon, so Bing and I are going to see Twilight tomorrow morning at TEN A.M.
Yes, that is precisely how much I want to see this movie. Bing is being a good sport and has graciously agreed to be my date. She will never admit it, but I think she secretly wants to see it almost as badly as I do. Liv, of course, is too young, so this is good timing for us to go.
I'll let y'all know if the theater is full of screaming
We went to the grocery store tonight and bought all the fixings for ham and bean soup. It will go into the crock pot before we leave for the movie and when Liv gets home in the afternoon, the whole house will smell like delicious soup. We will go take Socks for a walk and come in with rosy red cheeks and cold fingers and toes and then there will be this waiting for us. There are four Autumn comfort foods that I love:
1) Ham and bean soup
2) Beef stew
4) Spaghetti and meatballs
What are your comfort foods when the wind is raw?
There is something just so....cozy about coming home from the cold outside and eating ham and bean soup in a nice pretty blue bowl with a soft dinner roll slathered in butter.
I am so looking forward to my day.
I wish that I had good news about our car and thank you all for your suggestions, but it is still not fixed. They do know what is wrong with it, finally. I am not sure that I understand it completely but something called the high beam indicator light was staying on continuously and bleeding the battery out. The dash panel is also messed up electronically. So, a new dash panel has been ordered, will supposedly be in on Wednesday and we can pick it up that evening after work.
So, more days of carpooling. I am being a real whiner about this. I HATE carpooling with Bing. She has to be at work at 7 (teaches at a high school), so we drop Liv off at Hal and Nora's at 6:30 and then take Bing to work and then I get to my job around 7:10. Our office doesn't open until 8, so I have been stopping off at the bakery around the corner every morning and buying myself a bagel and a cafe au lait.
I get to the office, start up the coffee machine and read my book until everyone gets in. But, I am not happy. I detest getting up at 5:30 every morning and I miss my time with Liv. So, I am not one of those people (that would be you, Bing...) who just smile and say, "Well, it could be worse. We are so lucky to have two cars!"
Instead, I sit there being a cranky ass pouter inside. I am careful not to show it on the outside, have to be a fucking role model for Liv and all that shit. But, on the inside, I am pouting, believe you me, boy howdy.
I hate it when there is car trouble. Mostly because I feel so damn useless. I suppose I could take a class in car repair but that would be productive, wouldn't it? And it is so much easier to just whine.
So...another week of it.
At least my knee is healing up finally. Yes, I did promise to relate my klutz-of-the-week story.
My bff, Harriet, and I decided to go to the Goodwill about a week ago to see if they had any collectibles in. We both collect old plates and bowls and I have some pretty impressive Royal Copenhagen floral 1922 plates that I found there and paid a whopping five bucks for. Harriet snatched up a hump back trunk once. So, we go on what we call treasure hunts.
Sometimes we are lucky, sometimes not. But, we both get all giddy when we walk in. We generally find something. Not always what we hoped for, but something. I found a beautiful purse there once. Another time, Harriet found a Mary Quant dress.
I must have been over-eager or something on that day because I somehow or other managed to lose my balance as we were walking to the door of the store. I turned my ankle crazily and lurched forwards, grabbing the first thing that I could...
which was a woman who was walking out of the store carrying a large bag.
I know what it looked like, because the woman screamed as I fell on her bags. It was clear that she thought I was some insane person who was trying to rob her in a very dramatic way.
I went down hard on my knees, tearing her bag open as I did and all these....
very large bras fell out. There must have been ten or twelve of them and several belts and several Barbie dolls too.
But, the bras are what Harriet and I remember.
I thought the woman was going to kill me. She was so fucking mad. She kept saying, "Look what you DID. Look what you DID!" over and over.
I skinned the hell out of both of my knees. I had met Harriet in the parking lot on my way home from work and so had on a dress and panty hose.
The panty hose were shreds. My knees were bleeding profusely, blood rolling down my shins in shiny streaks.
And there were those....HUGE bras....littering the sidewalk.
Harriet swooped me up and sat me down on a bench and then whipped around yanking up the woman's bras and sliding them into a new bag that a helpful employee brought out.
I apologized to the woman, who managed to still hiss angrily at me as I bled on the bench.
Good hell...I was SORRY.
I think she must have just been embarrassed at the merchandise.
I mean, as Harriet said to me later, "You just should never, ever buy bras or shoes from a Goodwill. Other stuff, sure. Lingerie and footwear. No."
The woman left. I limped into the bathroom and cleaned myself up as best as I could. Harriet knocked on the door. Asked me if I was okay. I told her that I was, but that I didn't much feel like shopping now.
So, we went back to my house for a glass of wine and some crackers.
And we ended up laughing over those bras.
Another Harriet/Maria story for us. Now, all Harriet has to do is look at me and silently mouth the word bra and we both start giggling.
They were just so...fucking...big. Mae West bras. Bras meant to be used seriously.
Bras that could hold a newborn baby in each cup.
"Jaysus, sweetie," Harriet told me. "I mean, they were just....flopping...all the hell over the place."
And, hey...my knees are still black and blue, but the scabs are healing.
And Twilight and a bowl of ham and bean soup will help. A lot.
If only the damn car was home where it belongs instead of sitting in a lonely garage, waiting for a new bra of it's own.
Have a nice weekend, y'all.