With our new rent and deposits and my current crazy landlady giving us three utility bills in rapid succession (she hoards bills and then lays them on you) we’re headed toward a near future more financially glum than we’ve had in a while. My husband had to take out a small payday loan (yeah I know: ick) to pay a couple bills and I’ve entered a family near-no-spending lifestyle (annoying, stressful, and boring!). Which sucks when it’s cold and hostile out and the best way I usually find to feel better is hot coffee and some minor retail therapy.
I’ve been there before, though, and I don’t mind. At least I don’t mind today. We still have food, and heat, and a dwelling, and our health. I feel fortunate and energized and all the more fiercely in love with my children and husband, who are where I’ve put my heart and work for so very long. Even so, I can feel the familiar life changes we’re about to have: “I’m almost out of gas” phone calls to Ralph, and the weird sad moping I get when I can’t buy other people gifts, and more putting-expenses-off and bus riding (which we enjoy despite how much it slows our day down, but with the long wait times and the cold weather it is seriously unpleasant right now if you don’t have warm clothes) to help kill time and save gas, and this kind of pinched feeling that can make the days drag. Speaking of transportation, I have to laugh that my car has some kind of crazy problem and one of its belts screams when I drive. And I do mean screaming. Very loud. And it’s something we won’t be fixing any time soon.
I have my good spirits again, though, despite a broke kind of limbo as we eke out the next few days before moving. Not everyone I know is faring so well. Today a friend writes me, “I’m not capable of much more than crying all day and sitting around staring at the wall,” and she really means it. Not two minutes after her admission I hear of another friend is having a horrid time with her husband – drinking too much and fighting. Ugh.
I’m feeling sad thinking of my friends this morning, sitting at the computer. From behind me I finally hear Nels stir (I love that my children sleep on little beds we make out in the living room) and I turn to look at him and he’s in the sun, the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and I see him every day. He says, “Good morning,” and smiles. Then he says, “How are you doing this lovely day?” He really rolls the “l” on the word “lovely”.
And I think, Yeah. It’s a Lovely Day, isn’t it?