I have a job. Three of them, actually. I should be thankful, really I should. But days like today cause me to ponder just how hurt I'd have to be to get Disability benefits.
And I wonder why I want to spend thousands of dollars, much of my "free" time, and many hours on the road to pursue a Master's degree that will only help to secure my current position, which today made me want to stab someone with my pen. (But I didn't.)
Today, as I was browsing my Explanation of Benefit cache on my insurance site, I asked myself what would have happened if I had just remained calm, hadn't spazzed out about a stupid few swollen lymph nodes, and avoided racking up a couple thousand dollars worth of medical bills.
Waitressing wasn't that bad. Sure, while on shift it's mentally and physically taxing, but when the shift is over, it's over. No work to take home with you, maybe an extra shift now and then, but only when you WANT it, and you're not in charge. I would SO love to not be in charge some days.
But I try not to complain. My house has heat, my bed has a blanket, and no tornado has decimated my hometown. Though I had to sign a waiver giving my firstborn to BP, my car has a full tank of gas. No one has abused me, no one has taken away my rights (yet) and no one has told me that I can't believe, pray to, or serve my God.
So I guess things really aren't that bad.
