Perspective

by

My bank balance is $0.02.

Rock on.

I was not in a rock on frame of mind earlier.  Especially when I got the e-mail from my GM expressing that the insurance was coming out in one lump sum next pay period.

Motherfucker.

I just paid rent.

I have $0.02 in my bank account.  Are you trying to kill me?

Then he flounces through the store leaving a messy wake of helpfulness and I just about screamed.  I was about to bash some heads.

I took a very large deep breath and walked away to the bathroom.  My co-workers think I have a small bladder; they may be right, but sometimes I just need to take a breath and a have a little talking to with the powers that be.

Wonder Twin powers activate!

In the form of–

MORE MONEY!

That’s my solution.  I need to make more money.  I don’t have enough.  Fear, fear, fear.

Not sexy, not serene, not calm, not rational.  So, withdrawal to the bathroom, a perfunctory sit on the toilet, when in Rome, and I said the fear prayer–God remove my fear and direct my attention to what you would have me be–how may I best serve you in this situation?

I realize that nobody wants to hear my prayers, but fuck off.  My blog.  I’ll pray if I want to.

Besides, it worked.

I realized that when I am that angry, I am in fear, and when I am in fear I can’t see straight.  I need to get perspective.  I took another big breath of oxygen and went back to my post at the front.  Then some thing I deemed idiotic happened, and I lost my cool.

What happened?

I don’t have any idea.

Actually, what happened does not even matter, I lost my calm, and knowing that I was about to make a scene, I excused myself.  I asked to take a phone call for five minutes.

It was eight, but it did the trick.

I walked around the corner.  I left John Ater a long windy message about my boss and how I am not making enough money and how I work too hard to not be making enough money and woe is me and I am crazy.

I also called Carolyn.

I left her a message too.

I was looking for Joan’s number in my phone when Carolyn called me back and talked me off the ledge.

First, I got the scared bit out and the teary bit out.  Man, I haven’t had a good freak out cry in a moment, also nice to see that for the most part I am pretty even keeled.  Then I fessed up to the fact that I have been putting away more money into my savings and that I do actually have money, it’s just that I am loath to spend it on anything except socking it away for Paris.

Not even groceries?

Yeah, when I realize that I am not going to have enough to get through the next week with my groceries then I knew I had to take the action to take money from my savings account.

Mama needs good food.

Of course, Carolyn pointed out the obvious, I have a savings account.  I can take money out, I have choices.  And when she heard how much I have been putting away into my savings account, $400 a month, she was actually shocked.

I tithe to myself.

That being said, I have been putting away more than ten percent of my income.  If I was just doing ten percent, I would be putting away about $250 a month.  I have become rather restrictive in my spending.  I am being frugal to the point of idiocy.

My ideas where get on craigslist and find a new job.

Demand a raise.

Throw a tantrum.

Quit.

Not really viable solutions.

I don’t want to start another job right now.  Having realized that about a month ago, I was willing to make less to stay put and stay connected to the network that I have right now.  I feel like I am getting some tremendously valuable connections and experience at the shop.  Despite not making the kind of money I believe I am worthy of, I am making connections and I am getting really good experience.

I am learning and have learned a tremendous amount about computers, networking via the internet, photography, retail, developing relationships with vendors, sourcing materials, maintaining records, and learning Quick Books.  I am taking every little thing I have learned, not to even talk about what I have learned about bicycles, with me.

Quitting will leave me with no job.  It would be like taking the poison I want to kill some one with for myself.

I am not going to do that for a bike shop.

And I still have a feeling that some sort of connection is in the works there.  I meet so many people and I know I have impressed a few of them with my personality and acumen.  Something will come of it.

Something more than the $.02 in my bank account.

I don’t know why I am not being showered with money.  If I knew how to make more money I would be doing it, well that’s a lie.  I do know some ways to make extra money.

But I also know that more money is not necessarily the answer.  More money often brings more responsibility and more anxiety.

There is however, a happy medium.

I know I could make more money illegally.

Not an option.

I know I could make more money as a nanny.

Not an option.

I know I could make more money in a restaurant.

Been there done that.

So, hanging in there, doing the best I can with what I have in front of me.  Because, frankly, it ain’t always gonna be like this.

And this, truly, is not bad.

My luxury problem is that I am worried about having enough money to move to Paris.  I just need a plane ticket and a passport.

I already have the latter.

I can’t fuck it up.

I am being taken care of.

I am, damn it.

 

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