I hate when I start thinking like this...
As a result of unexpectedly low student counts and overzealous fiscal projections, there's been a lot of talk floating around the school lately about the very real possibility of job cuts across the board. Nothing's official yet, but the writing on the wall is exceptionally ominous, especially when you think about just how long and dry a summer it turned out to be.
But worse than that was this train of thought that ran through my mind this morning, this sweater-thread begging to be pulled that left me taking a hard look at all of these bills and all of the money I really don't make doing this job, and it isn't too long before you get this little voice in your head saying,
Then I start thinking about all the sharks swimming around my bank account, all the "private number" calls from the credit card companies that I let go straight to voicemail, all the times it seems like I've got to make ten dollars stretch for two weeks, and an unfortunate sense of ..logic starts to emerge.
At the same time, It's not like I do this gig for the money. Or perhaps it would be better said that I stick with this job despite the money -- because no matter how much I might complain about it sometimes, I really do love what I do.
Problem is, the mortgage company doesn't give a shit. Problem is, all the love in the world isn't going to come up with a car payment. I'm certainly not the only one in the world with money troubles, and there's plenty of people out there who don't even have jobs in the first place. It's not like I'm standing here trying to say "woe is me" -- it's more like I sometimes really resent the crossroads that this job tends to put me at when it comes to money.
As a result of unexpectedly low student counts and overzealous fiscal projections, there's been a lot of talk floating around the school lately about the very real possibility of job cuts across the board. Nothing's official yet, but the writing on the wall is exceptionally ominous, especially when you think about just how long and dry a summer it turned out to be.
But worse than that was this train of thought that ran through my mind this morning, this sweater-thread begging to be pulled that left me taking a hard look at all of these bills and all of the money I really don't make doing this job, and it isn't too long before you get this little voice in your head saying,
"Would it really be the worstNevermind the fact that I've never really been able to survive corporate life, or that it would take time to find a new gig -- The simple truth is that if I were to end up without a classroom to work in and had to go back into the private sector, I could easilly pull upwards of ten to fifteen grand a year more than I'd ever make as a teacher.
thing in the world if it happened?"
Then I start thinking about all the sharks swimming around my bank account, all the "private number" calls from the credit card companies that I let go straight to voicemail, all the times it seems like I've got to make ten dollars stretch for two weeks, and an unfortunate sense of ..logic starts to emerge.
At the same time, It's not like I do this gig for the money. Or perhaps it would be better said that I stick with this job despite the money -- because no matter how much I might complain about it sometimes, I really do love what I do.
Problem is, the mortgage company doesn't give a shit. Problem is, all the love in the world isn't going to come up with a car payment. I'm certainly not the only one in the world with money troubles, and there's plenty of people out there who don't even have jobs in the first place. It's not like I'm standing here trying to say "woe is me" -- it's more like I sometimes really resent the crossroads that this job tends to put me at when it comes to money.
Just let me be broke in peace, yo.
[Listening to: Waylon Jennings, "Luchenbach Texas"]
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