I would do a link to my last day log like I used to do, but it's been so damn long since I wrote one I cant remember when I last did. And this computer in my school is so slow its not worth it to check.
I almost noded this separately in a node entitled Days When it Feels Like the World is Eating You Alive. But I think that would have been a bit egocentric.
Do you ever get that feeling in your chest like you've swallowed a coconut, and you feel you can't move from your current position until you stop feeling the way you're feeling?
I got to school today feeling frigging wonderful. I have been unbelievably broke the past few weeks, and (lo and behold) when I went to my bank today, I had money! Granted, it's money coming out of my savings and it will eventually mean a huge student loan, but for today it meant I could go grocery shopping and afford to take the bus to school again. So I treated myself to a McDonald's breakfast, my lovely indulgence. I was so enraptured in my breakfast bagel that I left my small toolbox at the bus stop. It didn't have too much in it - a set of pens and compressed charcoal, some pencils, graphite sticks, erasers and drawing supplies. But it was about fifty bucks in art supplies in total. So I'm grumpy the whole day, after going back and looking for it and of course it's not there.
I check my email and get a note from my mother.
"I checked your account on the net before that money went in.
You were $150.00 overdrawn, so I put in extra to cover the overdraft.
Why are you overdrawn?
The service charges are terrible."
This either means I have unknowingly spent my entire budget for art supplies (which has to last me the rest of the semester) or my bank has screwed up big time.
By this point I'm feeling pretty shitty and I'm worried as hell about my financial situation. I go to the kid's art school where I am an assistant and start fixing some toddlers clay pieces that blew up in the kiln. I'm feeling sorry for myself, broke and pms-ey and pouty and crampy. I can't get the damn things to stick together properly and I let the teacher I work for know that the broken pieces won't be able to fit together perfectly.
She shrugs her shoulders.
"It's okay, there are worse things that could happen in life. Though what they are I'm not sure."
She has breast cancer. She is in the middle of intense chemotherapy. She is young and wonderful and beautiful. All of her hair has fallen out and she occasionally gets tired, but she still works four jobs and is constantly smiling and positive.
All of a sudden I feel wonderful and terrible at the same time. I feel petty and shallow and self-centered.
And then I feel better and I remember that my day wasn't so bad after all.