I might be working somewhere new next week. Found out about the job from a friend, sent in my resume and – completely shocking – they called! It’s an “industry” job as they say in L.A., so I’m not sure what I’m getting myself into. I’m almost afraid to talk about it until it actually happens (read: I am on-site, working), because so many things have fallen through in the history of our financial drama. I do know it’s long hours and low pay, but theoretically could turn into something better. I also know with total certainty that my getting the call had everything to do with my friend and nothing whatsoever to do with my resume. More and more often in this economy, it’s quite literally who you know.
It’s a project-based thing, so I’m not sure how long it would last. Still, it’s something. Another drop of hope into my mostly-empty bucket. I feel like my personal reservoir of hope equates to a rainwater collection barrel during a drought. A great thing to have in theory, but you still can’t water the flowers with nothing. Speaking of which, we’ve pretty much let our lawn die. It looks horrendous, but water is expensive and the lawn wasn’t doing well even when we had the money to take care of it. Also, half our front yard is covered with seed pods from the liquid amber tree. We should rake, but our list of priorities is so overwhelming, yard work falls by the wayside. When I am at work, Chris is trying to entertain Avery, look for work, deal with whatever freelance work he does get and keep the basics going… dishes, laundry, toy pick-up, repeat. It’s a very small house, so if you fail to keep up with any of these three areas, function becomes impossible. If you don’t pick up the toys, someone might actually get injured. The walkways between furniture are so narrow that even when everything is clean Chris calls them “goat trails.” He’s 6’1″ and broad-shouldered and often clips things as he attempts to travel from one room to the next. In a perfect world, we’d have a large home with an open floor plan. Yeah.
Still working for my friend this week. If the job comes through next week maybe I can do both… I guess I’ll wait and see how it plays out. I want to be working, so badly. More than that, I’d like to feel like I was earning enough to really accomplish something. Yes, something is always better than nothing, but when the hole is as deep as ours, it feels like we throw whatever money we can gather in and wait and listen for the *plink* when it hits bottom that never comes. I’d like to feel like I was earning enough to hear some noise, you know?
Please, universe. Let’s make some noise.