Today, for me, is my own personal Christmas.
I have long been in the dark, struggling, scraping by; my advent season truly began with the car accident back in September that threw my finances into disarray. I had barely begun to recover from that event when I was plunged into darkness and uncertainty: three weeks of no paycheck, with only a week’s pay in my pocket. We needed, still need, so many things and here I could do nothing but sit on my hands and make vague promises for the future. It was dark, what with being the middle of winter, and it was cold, colder than it’s been in a long time, and I couldn’t afford little joys to help keep the winter at bay.
But today a savior is come; today the sun shines again, for today I received my first double-size paycheck from the new job. Today I am liberated from the chains of debt that had held me back. Today I am joyous.
I’ve been thinking a lot about power and helpfulness, and how little I have of either. For a while now my main contribution to the family has been financial. When that was taken away from me, I grew irritable and depressed. I found myself having to work twice as hard to keep up a good outlook on life, to have hope for the future. It’s not that we were particularly bad off, since the guys had received their student loan refunds and I used my credit card liberally to take care of expenses like food and gas, but it was more that I knew I was failing as a provider and was unable to make up the deficit in other ways. I couldn’t lift furniture or haul boxes; I could barely even help clean out the old apartment, because I’d run out of stamina long before the place was truly as clean as I’d have liked it. This experience has only redoubled my resolve to get healthier.
But part of it is probably also that I don’t value the nebulous things I do do. As terrible as moving was, as much as we sniped at each other and generally felt awful, it might have been worse if I hadn’t been determined to be upbeat and positive, and sort of “cheerlead” the group even when I felt sore and tired myself. It was draining as hell, and by the end of the week I was glad to get back to work and not avoid my friends for a few days, but maybe it would have been worse if I hadn’t been there.
Bah, nevermind all that. I’m making myself a messenger bag because I’m badass and have a new job and my new laptop is too big for any of my current bags and the ones at the store are ugly. Confidence! I shall have confidence if it kills me!