Saturday, February 28, 2009

Egg Money

I was driving down Main Street last Thursday afternoon. Completely annoyed with the dump truck driver in the truck in front of me. The guy needed to make up his mind; either blow through the yellow lights or stop at a reasonable distance. These quick stops are spewing stone all over the place and replacing a windshield just isn't in the budget right now. Instead of letting my head throb form traffic, I decided to take a right on Quaint Ave. I won't get to my destination (Target) any sooner, but I'll be less annoyed and I love looking at the houses. The houses are of the same era and style as my own little house. But inside; well, inside, I know they have shining hardwood, built-in cabinetry and back staircases. This neighborhood is my little dream just three blocks away from my own street.
Usually, my heart gives a little leap when I see the Tangerine Dream. A huge, orange house with an overgrown flower garden and beautifully crafted scroll work. Thursday, all I felt was sadness. And then anger.
Ahhh. I've felt this before. It's loss.Why Thursday? A sunny day, kids in their car seats, we're running errands, eating a Frosty and I have The Cure playing just loud enough so I can sing and dance like the 80's loving fool I am? Hmm. This is a feeling that usually hits me a few days after a clinic visit, and comes as no surprise.Oh. Dream neighborhood. Bills to pay. Truck to fix. Blood to fix. My plans will never come to be. The built-ins, the back staircase, the 3rd floor attic space that would be a studio-playroom, the wavy brick road. These things will never happen. I am mourning the loss of the future I had made up in my imagination.
I never had the address I lost on Thursday, so why was it so upsetting? I worry about the future all of the time. Constantly. The unsettled feeling that something is forgotten, something needs to be done, something foreboding is about to happen is always hangs over me. An odd feeling for this happy girl, but it's there and I dare not speak of it to anyone. I am a happy girl, I get things done with a smile. I am the care taker of the world. I hold these worries and losses tight to me so others don't have to.
What do I have to worry about? I worry that medical bills will cause us to lose everything we have. I worry that we will be living with my parents, without health insurance, or cute shoes. I worry about how Little Man will pay for his medical bills in the distant future, health insurance, a home, car and family. I worry.My husband has a good job, he works amazingly hard. However, I can't afford to go to work. We cannot afford child care. Plus, who could I trust to take care of Little Man and who would be willing to take that task? Someone recently told me to think outside the box.
Hmmm. With two little ones at home I could take "900" calls, breath heavy and sigh lightly. But I would get the giggles, I know I would. Anyway, dirty talk to me is all about floors and laundry; not quite the turn on I imagine most 900 callers are looking for. I could go the way of generations of women before me and sell eggs. But I don't have any chickens. I do, however have eggs that are ripe for the picking and no where near expiration. Thanks to government and insurance companies, they cost quite a lot for me to keep under control, so if I got rid of these precious eggs I could lessen a monthly bill and make someone else happy. This just may be a winning idea.

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