Monday. October 5th. Here we go again.
On Thursday when I went to withdraw from my classes I ran into Aart Lovenstein, a Shir Tikvah parent and someone I clashed with while I was there. "We miss you," he told me, "all is well, but we miss you." This from someone who never seemed a fan. On the way home I ran into someone else from Shir Tikvah. Someone who always liked me, someone who wasn't even there my first year. "We miss you," she said, "nothings been the same since you left."
On Tuesday I'm having coffee with Ariel because its silly to ignore the universe when it screams at you.
If I'd found a parking spot on Wednesday would I be study Neurology right now?
Where does Shelly Chabon fit into all of this big picture stuff?
I guess it doesn't matter, does it? I'm officially withdrawn.
Just as an aside it makes me crazy how much people from Shir Tikvah tell me that they miss me, and how I worked my damnest to create meaningful educational opportunities for the members of that congregation and how much they appreciated it and I did it because it was my job and it wasn't hard and that's why its such a damn shame that the educational programming at Neveh Shalom is such a joke. Mel and I could fix it, I know we could, the question is do I want to? and what a damn headache.
Everyone has their idea of what I should do next.
Levia: Special Ed because its a lot like speech pathology but the classes are easier and getting the degree is a lot less rigorous.
Mel: Take over Neveh Shalom with her.
Jenn: Get an MFA.
All fabulous ideas and directions I could see myself moving in.
Here's what I know:
Somehow, somewhere along the line I turned into a real mother. It goes beyond what the kids need, by now its clear that they are flexible beyond belief, but I am not. I need to be their mother first and foremost. Without that I'm nothing. I crumple into nothingness without that role.
I'm a writer. I hate it, but I am. I must write. My soul professional ambition in life is to write a book and have it published. The end.
I'm a teacher. Again, for better or for worse, its who I am. When I teach I perform, and I give, and I write, and I connect and I create and I live. I don't always like it. In fact I may mostly hate all of those things, except that they are who I am and they are why I get out of bed each day.
Its really quite simple. A mother. A writer. A teacher.
Also a wife, a friend, a sister, a lover, a laugher, a reader, and a Jew. But the top three keep my head above water.
And they create a kind of center within me that without I cease to exist.
So that's it.
Onward.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Thursday, October 1, 2009
my brief career as an slp student
The telling goes something like this: I'm dropping out.
The Showing:
First day of classes were on Yom Kippur. For the first time in my life, I set out to have a regular day on Yom Kippur. Except that I was fasting, and that I'd been to services in the morning, the night before, and that I was dressed up, and no matter what you can't escape from Yom Kippur. It will reach out and grab you in the end and pull you back.
Anyway, even though I arrived at PSU at 11:30, by the time I'd parked it was 12:15 when I arrived in Neurology. Yup neurology. Yup, 15 minutes late. Followed by some other hard science class.
Okay, maybe I'm not ready for the showing. Suffice it to say I'm pulling out based on an unfound parking spot, and maybe lots of other signs and reasons as well. I don't know.
Don't fuck with Yom Kippur.
The Showing:
First day of classes were on Yom Kippur. For the first time in my life, I set out to have a regular day on Yom Kippur. Except that I was fasting, and that I'd been to services in the morning, the night before, and that I was dressed up, and no matter what you can't escape from Yom Kippur. It will reach out and grab you in the end and pull you back.
Anyway, even though I arrived at PSU at 11:30, by the time I'd parked it was 12:15 when I arrived in Neurology. Yup neurology. Yup, 15 minutes late. Followed by some other hard science class.
Okay, maybe I'm not ready for the showing. Suffice it to say I'm pulling out based on an unfound parking spot, and maybe lots of other signs and reasons as well. I don't know.
Don't fuck with Yom Kippur.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
later
I called Healthnet. Got nowhere. Called again. And again. I got a person who tried. She told me to leave a message. I almost gave up. Instead of transferring me to voicemail I got a person. A real live person on the other side whom I suspect has a heart that beats and blood that pumps.
I took myself off of our family plan. I am now, if I wasn't before, fully committed to going to school. I upped our deductible. Best of all I added dental insurance for an additional 60 bucks a month. Dental and vision because they come together, but well, Mira and Eli don't stand much of a chance in the good eye department. It all starts Oct 1st which is before Mira's next appointment and will be effective immediately.
Take that Krista fucking Badger!
America, you mess with me and your own peril.
I took myself off of our family plan. I am now, if I wasn't before, fully committed to going to school. I upped our deductible. Best of all I added dental insurance for an additional 60 bucks a month. Dental and vision because they come together, but well, Mira and Eli don't stand much of a chance in the good eye department. It all starts Oct 1st which is before Mira's next appointment and will be effective immediately.
Take that Krista fucking Badger!
America, you mess with me and your own peril.
the dentist
Mira has a cavity. She also needs sealant on her four back teeth. Something that normally would have been an inconvenience is an all out crisis.
The bill for the two visits, cleaning, x-rays, etc was nearly $500. Yup. That's a month of health insurance. A month of groceries. A month and a half of Kindergarten. More than a month's salary for me. And that was for them to tell me that I needed to come back and pay them more money.
This is a dentist's office that offers no payment plans. You can "split up" your visits if you so choose, but I don't see how that saves any money. No net here. Nothing for low income or unemployed. A dentist for the well off. Probably one that we shouldn't be going to anyway.
What a fucked up country that we live in! A cavity for God's sake shouldn't cause this kind of set back for us.
And its awful not to really trust the people providing your care. But how can you really? Does a baby tooth really need to be sealed? What to believe in and what not?
I pulled myself together and didn't cry in front of the dentist or the children although I wanted to. Its true that money exists that belongs to us that allows us to pay for this and to eat too. And to stay in our home. But this just isn't what we should be spending it on.
Mira, from the back seat of the car, in her grown up voice that somehow makes her sound younger, offered to help pay to fix her own cavity.
"We can do it sweetie," I told her, "we have enough money to fix your tooth." It still amazes me who she is.
I dropped them at school afterwards. Mira found her teacher right in the front hallway who smiled at her and shuffled her right off to music. She said hello to Eli and told me that she was happy to see Mira.
Meanwhile in Kindergarten...
A boy had locked himself in the stall in the bathroom and was refusing to come out. Neither Mrs. McAdams nor Kristy knew what to do. The kids were sitting patiently on the rug, and Cynthia even got a label for Eli's apple. But she is not herself, not the same Kindergarten teacher that Mira had. A Kindergarten classroom should not hold 28 students. I'm afraid its going to crack this very good and very seasoned professional. Its not a situation that can succeed. That school is so damn crowded, I can't believe any real learning can happen there.
I feel like we are living the American nightmare right now. No money to get sick, overcrowded schools, whopee! Isn't this a great country?!
The bill for the two visits, cleaning, x-rays, etc was nearly $500. Yup. That's a month of health insurance. A month of groceries. A month and a half of Kindergarten. More than a month's salary for me. And that was for them to tell me that I needed to come back and pay them more money.
This is a dentist's office that offers no payment plans. You can "split up" your visits if you so choose, but I don't see how that saves any money. No net here. Nothing for low income or unemployed. A dentist for the well off. Probably one that we shouldn't be going to anyway.
What a fucked up country that we live in! A cavity for God's sake shouldn't cause this kind of set back for us.
And its awful not to really trust the people providing your care. But how can you really? Does a baby tooth really need to be sealed? What to believe in and what not?
I pulled myself together and didn't cry in front of the dentist or the children although I wanted to. Its true that money exists that belongs to us that allows us to pay for this and to eat too. And to stay in our home. But this just isn't what we should be spending it on.
Mira, from the back seat of the car, in her grown up voice that somehow makes her sound younger, offered to help pay to fix her own cavity.
"We can do it sweetie," I told her, "we have enough money to fix your tooth." It still amazes me who she is.
I dropped them at school afterwards. Mira found her teacher right in the front hallway who smiled at her and shuffled her right off to music. She said hello to Eli and told me that she was happy to see Mira.
Meanwhile in Kindergarten...
A boy had locked himself in the stall in the bathroom and was refusing to come out. Neither Mrs. McAdams nor Kristy knew what to do. The kids were sitting patiently on the rug, and Cynthia even got a label for Eli's apple. But she is not herself, not the same Kindergarten teacher that Mira had. A Kindergarten classroom should not hold 28 students. I'm afraid its going to crack this very good and very seasoned professional. Its not a situation that can succeed. That school is so damn crowded, I can't believe any real learning can happen there.
I feel like we are living the American nightmare right now. No money to get sick, overcrowded schools, whopee! Isn't this a great country?!
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
bills, bills and more bills
What a cliched title for a post, but really, who knew how much water from your very own tap costs? And this is with two kids who don't bathe particularly often.
I'm amazed at how different my spending habits have become. I used to shop for fun, for recreation, for enjoyment. And now? I can't. The thought of buying something literally makes my stomach turn. The one time I went to Fred Meyer in this whole debacle, to buy a yahrtzeit candle, I thought I might fall on the floor and weep. I cannot be around commerce right now.
Jeff on the other hand doesn't seem to have that problem, and here it is nearly the end of Elul and I'm trying to let go of anger and rancor, but I wish he'd stop. Move to the world that I live in. The other day he left his power supply cord at home, was too busy to come home and get it, so he bought a new one. He tells me that he'll return it, but he hasn't yet. It's this kind of thing that makes it hard to move on. To pull ourselves up and move into 5770 with an unbroken heart. And really, I don't think Apple is in the business of lending out power cords. Are they really going to give him a full refund for a used power cord. We just can't be throwing money out the window like this, and I can tell myself not to get pissed, but how can I not?
And then there's the thing with Eric. They seem to be applying for some kind of grant money. And I guess it's like one of those writing contests where you pay to enter, and the winner gets a cash prize. And I don't doubt that they can win. I don't doubt Jeff's talent and commitment and unique brand of brilliance. But I'm in shock, I really am. It cost a lot of money, nearly $200. That's two weeks of groceries. He says Eric will pay him back and I believe him because I have to because if I don't have faith in him and trust than we have nothing, but what do I tell that part of myself that asks "what if he doesn't?" What if its gone forever? How can we get through this then.
And when is he going to start packing a lunch? And putting receipts in "the envelope." The bigger question I guess is when will I stop thinking this way? I want to trust him, I do.
On the good side Jeff's friend Ed is starting his own business. Jeff told him to call him back when he has money to pay him. So hallelujah. I know it pains Jeff to say no to new business ventures. That he loves building a company like nothing else and pouring all of that passion and dedication into a new venture. But he said no. So there is hope.
I'm amazed at how different my spending habits have become. I used to shop for fun, for recreation, for enjoyment. And now? I can't. The thought of buying something literally makes my stomach turn. The one time I went to Fred Meyer in this whole debacle, to buy a yahrtzeit candle, I thought I might fall on the floor and weep. I cannot be around commerce right now.
Jeff on the other hand doesn't seem to have that problem, and here it is nearly the end of Elul and I'm trying to let go of anger and rancor, but I wish he'd stop. Move to the world that I live in. The other day he left his power supply cord at home, was too busy to come home and get it, so he bought a new one. He tells me that he'll return it, but he hasn't yet. It's this kind of thing that makes it hard to move on. To pull ourselves up and move into 5770 with an unbroken heart. And really, I don't think Apple is in the business of lending out power cords. Are they really going to give him a full refund for a used power cord. We just can't be throwing money out the window like this, and I can tell myself not to get pissed, but how can I not?
And then there's the thing with Eric. They seem to be applying for some kind of grant money. And I guess it's like one of those writing contests where you pay to enter, and the winner gets a cash prize. And I don't doubt that they can win. I don't doubt Jeff's talent and commitment and unique brand of brilliance. But I'm in shock, I really am. It cost a lot of money, nearly $200. That's two weeks of groceries. He says Eric will pay him back and I believe him because I have to because if I don't have faith in him and trust than we have nothing, but what do I tell that part of myself that asks "what if he doesn't?" What if its gone forever? How can we get through this then.
And when is he going to start packing a lunch? And putting receipts in "the envelope." The bigger question I guess is when will I stop thinking this way? I want to trust him, I do.
On the good side Jeff's friend Ed is starting his own business. Jeff told him to call him back when he has money to pay him. So hallelujah. I know it pains Jeff to say no to new business ventures. That he loves building a company like nothing else and pouring all of that passion and dedication into a new venture. But he said no. So there is hope.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
ooof gozal
The title of today's post is dedicated to Eli Alexander Katz. Kindergartner extraordinaire!
Back to fall of the house of Katz:
Jeff got home on Monday zonked out of his mind from lack of sleep. We had to postpone our weekly "meeting" until Tuesday, where, in the AM he told me that he had a softball game. I wanted to talk on Wednesday night. He wanted to just wait until Sunday, and do two weeks at once. I agreed because I am trying to be supportive and I know that all of this is difficult for Jeff.
Except that I'm not. Supportive that is.
The big blow out came later on in the day, after Mira was home from school. I've been doing poorly on my pre-GRE tests. I'm going crazy after a long summer and a really stressful week coming up next week. We got another goddamn bill from a collection agency. I blew up. We screamed. Jeff through his keyboard and nearly broke his wrist. We did this in front of our kids. They didn't even cry. They just gave us that heartbreaking innocently bewildered angry look and separated us. Really. Eli pushed me out of the room. They don't know how much they saved us, how much they are saving us.
He didn't play today. We made up but we are not okay. I am going to try to let go of being angry. I hate being angry. Jeff is going to try to heal. But trying is not doing and I am not a patient person. I want it fixed and I want it fixed now.
Libby called last night offering friendship or loans or whatever. She saw me freak out when Mira's tooth fell out. Really, if I have to pay any more money for this tooth I might crumple. I had a good crumple yesterday. On the couch, underneath the green blanket while everyone was at soccer. I collapsed. And then I got up and made pasta because the choice to collapse doesn't really exist.
I can see all of this in my face. What kind of year will we have. I always expected some kind of release on Eli's first day of Kindergarten. I don't know. Mostly it was empty.
Back to fall of the house of Katz:
Jeff got home on Monday zonked out of his mind from lack of sleep. We had to postpone our weekly "meeting" until Tuesday, where, in the AM he told me that he had a softball game. I wanted to talk on Wednesday night. He wanted to just wait until Sunday, and do two weeks at once. I agreed because I am trying to be supportive and I know that all of this is difficult for Jeff.
Except that I'm not. Supportive that is.
The big blow out came later on in the day, after Mira was home from school. I've been doing poorly on my pre-GRE tests. I'm going crazy after a long summer and a really stressful week coming up next week. We got another goddamn bill from a collection agency. I blew up. We screamed. Jeff through his keyboard and nearly broke his wrist. We did this in front of our kids. They didn't even cry. They just gave us that heartbreaking innocently bewildered angry look and separated us. Really. Eli pushed me out of the room. They don't know how much they saved us, how much they are saving us.
He didn't play today. We made up but we are not okay. I am going to try to let go of being angry. I hate being angry. Jeff is going to try to heal. But trying is not doing and I am not a patient person. I want it fixed and I want it fixed now.
Libby called last night offering friendship or loans or whatever. She saw me freak out when Mira's tooth fell out. Really, if I have to pay any more money for this tooth I might crumple. I had a good crumple yesterday. On the couch, underneath the green blanket while everyone was at soccer. I collapsed. And then I got up and made pasta because the choice to collapse doesn't really exist.
I can see all of this in my face. What kind of year will we have. I always expected some kind of release on Eli's first day of Kindergarten. I don't know. Mostly it was empty.
Monday, September 7, 2009
do you have a suit?
Jeff went to Austin for his cousin Eric's wedding.
Such a simple sentence right? None of our friends have questioned it, the only question of course is why I'm not there.
The funny thing is is that I'm allowed to say it cost too much. In this economy everyone talks about things costing too much. But no one (other than Levia) knows how incredibly hard this is for us. I'm buying damaged fruit, cutting the mold off of bread and serving it, making challah as our bread choice. We are just not flying places and going on trips right now. Except that Jeff did. He bought the ticket before the collapse. But he's not living in the same place as me. He hasn't moved to moldy bread land yet.
Our application for reduced lunch was accepted. Its like we've officially been declared poor.
Hopefully from here we will get a scholarship for all day Kindergarten. All day Kindergarten with a total of 28 kids in the class.
I'm having a hard time relating to my friends who are clearly not suffering at all. We had dinner with the Cullsteins last night at Baja Fresh. They told me all about their dinner out at a new French Bistro in the Pearl the night before and how they saw a French movie at the Living Room theater. We laughed that they were being influenced by Jenn. They thought nothing of joining us on our evening out at Baja Fresh. They had no idea that our evening out at Baja Fresh was it. Our big night. Our restaurant meal! It was our French Bistro and our French film for the month. I can't judge can I? I can't even have the sanctimonious pleasure of judgement since I was them less than a month ago.
It turns out that Jeff doesn't have a suit. At least not one without moth holes. He thought about filling in the holes with a sharpie (of which we have plenty) or just wearing a mismatched suit. We voted for option two. Mismatched vs sharpy.
We spent the week treating each other gingerly. This trip, no matter how you look at it, is a blow. It sets our progress back. Our progress to solvency and also our progress to partnership. He bought the ticket before the crash. I know that he did. But still, its a blow.
Credit card bills are pouring in. This not over by a long shot.
Such a simple sentence right? None of our friends have questioned it, the only question of course is why I'm not there.
The funny thing is is that I'm allowed to say it cost too much. In this economy everyone talks about things costing too much. But no one (other than Levia) knows how incredibly hard this is for us. I'm buying damaged fruit, cutting the mold off of bread and serving it, making challah as our bread choice. We are just not flying places and going on trips right now. Except that Jeff did. He bought the ticket before the collapse. But he's not living in the same place as me. He hasn't moved to moldy bread land yet.
Our application for reduced lunch was accepted. Its like we've officially been declared poor.
Hopefully from here we will get a scholarship for all day Kindergarten. All day Kindergarten with a total of 28 kids in the class.
I'm having a hard time relating to my friends who are clearly not suffering at all. We had dinner with the Cullsteins last night at Baja Fresh. They told me all about their dinner out at a new French Bistro in the Pearl the night before and how they saw a French movie at the Living Room theater. We laughed that they were being influenced by Jenn. They thought nothing of joining us on our evening out at Baja Fresh. They had no idea that our evening out at Baja Fresh was it. Our big night. Our restaurant meal! It was our French Bistro and our French film for the month. I can't judge can I? I can't even have the sanctimonious pleasure of judgement since I was them less than a month ago.
It turns out that Jeff doesn't have a suit. At least not one without moth holes. He thought about filling in the holes with a sharpie (of which we have plenty) or just wearing a mismatched suit. We voted for option two. Mismatched vs sharpy.
We spent the week treating each other gingerly. This trip, no matter how you look at it, is a blow. It sets our progress back. Our progress to solvency and also our progress to partnership. He bought the ticket before the crash. I know that he did. But still, its a blow.
Credit card bills are pouring in. This not over by a long shot.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
week three
Yesterday we found out some great news. I won third place in the Moment Magazine annual short fiction contest.
We really needed some good news around here. Things have been tense lately. It seems like we spend an inordinate amount of time talking about money but not doing much to solve any of our problems.
Sunday night was intense. Jeff and I looked at each other and both realized that we are facing the biggest challenge of our marriage, really the first on that is threatening to destroy us, and realizing that it might. The crisis might win. Its teeth are still sharp enough to destroy what we've built together.
That's why the good news was so very welcome. We are good at good news. We know how to react to good news. We get good news in a way that we don't get bad news. And maybe that goes back to my point that we are both just too optimistic for this world. Either that or too stupid. And the good news just cheered us up, got us talking again.
Then of course there's the idea I had that on the off chance I got Moment I'd rethink speech therapy, but, well, we won't go there yet.
Once again I just have to marvel at how well the kids are adjusting. All kids should experience what Mira and Eli are experiencing right now. They are, before my very eyes, becoming better people. Less spoiled. Open to purely enjoying the best part of life. All of the stuff that we thought they wanted, turned out that they didn't. We created the monsters. Luckily we chased them away too, and for that it might have been worth it.
We really needed some good news around here. Things have been tense lately. It seems like we spend an inordinate amount of time talking about money but not doing much to solve any of our problems.
Sunday night was intense. Jeff and I looked at each other and both realized that we are facing the biggest challenge of our marriage, really the first on that is threatening to destroy us, and realizing that it might. The crisis might win. Its teeth are still sharp enough to destroy what we've built together.
That's why the good news was so very welcome. We are good at good news. We know how to react to good news. We get good news in a way that we don't get bad news. And maybe that goes back to my point that we are both just too optimistic for this world. Either that or too stupid. And the good news just cheered us up, got us talking again.
Then of course there's the idea I had that on the off chance I got Moment I'd rethink speech therapy, but, well, we won't go there yet.
Once again I just have to marvel at how well the kids are adjusting. All kids should experience what Mira and Eli are experiencing right now. They are, before my very eyes, becoming better people. Less spoiled. Open to purely enjoying the best part of life. All of the stuff that we thought they wanted, turned out that they didn't. We created the monsters. Luckily we chased them away too, and for that it might have been worth it.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
a return to a vague normalcy
The first week felt like one of those surreal weeks where you are suspended in time and you never know when to eat or sleep or cry.
The second week feels, well, kind of normal. I've been eating and sleeping normally. Jeff and I are tiptoeing back towards each other. It is dawning on us that we need each other to get through it. I can't say I don't feel any anger, but the anger is dissipated with love and therefore we will survive, something I couldn't have said a week ago.
Some surreal things that are still happening:
1. Walking around the JCC looking for a lost water bottle. Who were those people who thought that they could afford to send their kids to all of those camps? Mira and Eli felt strange because they were walking around their camp as free birds. I felt like I was visiting with a person (me!) I used to feel some fondness for but now I realize is a stranger to me.
2. Cobbling together two dollars and fifty cents to take Orly swimming with us. Orly! Rich offered to pay but all he had was twenties.
I'm realizing that there is this whole other expense in life that I never paid attention to. It's me paying for Orly's swimming, or giving Mel $5, or lending Tia an egg. Its not tzedakah, its more I guess, friendliness, or good neighborliness or something. Whatever, its strange, and I know that somehow we get it back and that we have to, if we're going to live in this community, participate in it, but I can't believe I never noticed it before.
3. Going to Neveh Shalom and getting everything discounted for us. Really moving to the other side of giving, which is receiving. That's the side we live on now.
4. Coincidentally Mira decided yesterday to empty all of our tzedakah boxes into one big bag. A giant bag of money sitting on the dining room table. I don't know what it means exactly, but there's some symbolism here.
5. I've stopped wanting my mother.
6. It may be my imagination, but the kids seemed to have stopped asking for stuff all of the time. Is it really that simple? Stop buying stuff and they'll stop asking for it? They haven't asked to go out for a meal, or to see Harry Potter. They did not even glance towards the snack bar at the pool yesterday. I'm sure there's something I'm not seeing but, I think this may be, gasp, good for them.
7. I'm feeling much more tuned into their needs now that I know I can't assuage their feelings with material things. Its all about my attention. That's what they want, more than anything else that's what they want, and I'm trying to give it to them as generously as I possibly can.
8. I'm walking by the phone less with the intention of picking it up to call Mom. Not like normal (I still do it way more times than you would think after she's been dead for nearly 12 years), but less times than last week.
The second week feels, well, kind of normal. I've been eating and sleeping normally. Jeff and I are tiptoeing back towards each other. It is dawning on us that we need each other to get through it. I can't say I don't feel any anger, but the anger is dissipated with love and therefore we will survive, something I couldn't have said a week ago.
Some surreal things that are still happening:
1. Walking around the JCC looking for a lost water bottle. Who were those people who thought that they could afford to send their kids to all of those camps? Mira and Eli felt strange because they were walking around their camp as free birds. I felt like I was visiting with a person (me!) I used to feel some fondness for but now I realize is a stranger to me.
2. Cobbling together two dollars and fifty cents to take Orly swimming with us. Orly! Rich offered to pay but all he had was twenties.
I'm realizing that there is this whole other expense in life that I never paid attention to. It's me paying for Orly's swimming, or giving Mel $5, or lending Tia an egg. Its not tzedakah, its more I guess, friendliness, or good neighborliness or something. Whatever, its strange, and I know that somehow we get it back and that we have to, if we're going to live in this community, participate in it, but I can't believe I never noticed it before.
3. Going to Neveh Shalom and getting everything discounted for us. Really moving to the other side of giving, which is receiving. That's the side we live on now.
4. Coincidentally Mira decided yesterday to empty all of our tzedakah boxes into one big bag. A giant bag of money sitting on the dining room table. I don't know what it means exactly, but there's some symbolism here.
5. I've stopped wanting my mother.
6. It may be my imagination, but the kids seemed to have stopped asking for stuff all of the time. Is it really that simple? Stop buying stuff and they'll stop asking for it? They haven't asked to go out for a meal, or to see Harry Potter. They did not even glance towards the snack bar at the pool yesterday. I'm sure there's something I'm not seeing but, I think this may be, gasp, good for them.
7. I'm feeling much more tuned into their needs now that I know I can't assuage their feelings with material things. Its all about my attention. That's what they want, more than anything else that's what they want, and I'm trying to give it to them as generously as I possibly can.
8. I'm walking by the phone less with the intention of picking it up to call Mom. Not like normal (I still do it way more times than you would think after she's been dead for nearly 12 years), but less times than last week.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Friday and Saturday
I have to say that I am impressed with the kind of help that is out there for people that need it. Yesterday I was finally able to fill out the loan application for student loans. Boy, do I qualify!
I'm just so grateful that I'm going to be able to go back to school, now more than ever. I do feel like I've spent my life living in some kind of false bubble. Yesterday was the first time I ever went through my own taxes with a fine tooth comb. I'm still reeling from it--i had no idea.
We had a good Shabbat. I was able to cobble together a nice meal for us (pasta with lentils and arugula, home made challah two buck chuck absolutely fine) and when I lit the candles I felt so joyful that we have this part of our week which forces us to stop and breathe. Boy did we need to stop and breathe.
We sang a lot, more than usual and told the kids the story about the day we got engaged and the day that each of them were born. I think that in the midst of so much uncertainty Jeff and I were celebrating this family that we do have, that despite everything is holier and more sacred than the sum of its parts and its bank account.
And then in great Tel Aviv fashion, after the kids were in bed I went out dancing with Erica and her friend Jennifer and Levia. For three straight hours we danced our hearts out to 80's music because really, besides Shabbat, dancing to 80's music is the best thing in the world. $5 to get in and with the floor of the Crystal ballroom and a steady stream of Madonna, Modern English, and The Cure I was drunk on life.
So today is the annual block party. Tia came over to borrow an egg and Libby asked Jeff to pick up some beer and, well, its like we're holding onto this giant secret that is menacing enough still to destroy us despite 80's music and despite Shabbat. I don't have an egg to spare and I gave one to Tia. Somehow I have to tell Jeff that if he buys beer for the block party than he can't buy beer for the week.
I'm just so grateful that I'm going to be able to go back to school, now more than ever. I do feel like I've spent my life living in some kind of false bubble. Yesterday was the first time I ever went through my own taxes with a fine tooth comb. I'm still reeling from it--i had no idea.
We had a good Shabbat. I was able to cobble together a nice meal for us (pasta with lentils and arugula, home made challah two buck chuck absolutely fine) and when I lit the candles I felt so joyful that we have this part of our week which forces us to stop and breathe. Boy did we need to stop and breathe.
We sang a lot, more than usual and told the kids the story about the day we got engaged and the day that each of them were born. I think that in the midst of so much uncertainty Jeff and I were celebrating this family that we do have, that despite everything is holier and more sacred than the sum of its parts and its bank account.
And then in great Tel Aviv fashion, after the kids were in bed I went out dancing with Erica and her friend Jennifer and Levia. For three straight hours we danced our hearts out to 80's music because really, besides Shabbat, dancing to 80's music is the best thing in the world. $5 to get in and with the floor of the Crystal ballroom and a steady stream of Madonna, Modern English, and The Cure I was drunk on life.
So today is the annual block party. Tia came over to borrow an egg and Libby asked Jeff to pick up some beer and, well, its like we're holding onto this giant secret that is menacing enough still to destroy us despite 80's music and despite Shabbat. I don't have an egg to spare and I gave one to Tia. Somehow I have to tell Jeff that if he buys beer for the block party than he can't buy beer for the week.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
book selling and the first ask
Today I collected all of the books around the house and put them into boxes to bring to Powells. Probably about a hundred books. Most of them bought by me with the soul purpose of me reading them once. There were a few good books, but I actually owned The Memory Keeper's Daughter. Possibly the worst book ever published. Also a book about conjoined twins. Another bad one. In hard cover! Why, cause I was looking for something to read one day. Ever heard of a little place called the library, Amy?
Anyway I collected the books, and, (drum roll please) found a spot right in front of the Powells on Hawthorne. The guy selling "street roots" opened the door for me and Eli and I both thanked him. (By the way I am looking at the homeless totally differently now. Totally. Or maybe I should say that I am looking at them like they are people. I knew that is what you were supposed to do, but I've never actually done it before).
Anyway Eli and I watched as our friendly neighborhood Powell's clerk turned away 75% percent of my books. We both cheered every time he accepted a book. Apparently Powell's only takes books that they don't have too many of and that they know they can sell. The good news is that even for the few books I sold, I still got $30. Eli and I high fived each other and then he said, "now we can go to free swim today." He has totally adapted.
Later on Mel came over and I told her that we would need a scholarship to Kochavim. She was handled it exactly as I knew she would, just asked me to tell her what we could pay and moved on. We are so lucky to live in the community that we do. Now that I've done it once I'm sure I can do it again. Its not a matter of pride its just is what it is.
After swimming we went to Trader Joe's to buy milk. Just milk. Nothing else.
Anyway I collected the books, and, (drum roll please) found a spot right in front of the Powells on Hawthorne. The guy selling "street roots" opened the door for me and Eli and I both thanked him. (By the way I am looking at the homeless totally differently now. Totally. Or maybe I should say that I am looking at them like they are people. I knew that is what you were supposed to do, but I've never actually done it before).
Anyway Eli and I watched as our friendly neighborhood Powell's clerk turned away 75% percent of my books. We both cheered every time he accepted a book. Apparently Powell's only takes books that they don't have too many of and that they know they can sell. The good news is that even for the few books I sold, I still got $30. Eli and I high fived each other and then he said, "now we can go to free swim today." He has totally adapted.
Later on Mel came over and I told her that we would need a scholarship to Kochavim. She was handled it exactly as I knew she would, just asked me to tell her what we could pay and moved on. We are so lucky to live in the community that we do. Now that I've done it once I'm sure I can do it again. Its not a matter of pride its just is what it is.
After swimming we went to Trader Joe's to buy milk. Just milk. Nothing else.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
wednesday
The one thing about today was that I had to keep asking what day it was. It's like any crisis where the days begin to run together.
It was rainy today and I was really wondering how I was going to get out of taking the kids to see Harry Potter 6. They've only been looking forward to it all summer and today was raining and they had no plans and I was dreading it. But somehow they didn't ask. Nor did they ask to go to any stores. Instead they asked for a play date. The best things in life really are free.
Malaya came over. Malaya is a little girl who at some point had the potential to be a bitchy "it-girl", but turned nice. Her parents got divorced, her mother moved out, and suddenly the little vixen whom I never wanted in my home turned sweet. She likes to help me bake. She includes Eli in their games. She got Mira a stuffed cat for her birthday. Two years ago it was a Bratz doll. Anyway, a few minutes before Malaya was to arrive her dad called me nearly in tears. Malaya needed to rest due to a scuffle with her older brother. Ian, Malaya's brother, from what I've heard, is not a good kid. I'm afraid to imagine want he did to her. The pain in the father's voice was enough to convince me that we are lucky to have the troubles that we do.
I told the kids at the beginning of the week that they could pick out a treat from the pool only once this week. Today was the day they chose. I really had to tell them 50 times that today will be the only day. This is good for all of us. There's no need for the daily pool treat. I told them to each choose an ice cream that cost a dollar. No one complained. I am already seeing that they are going to whether this okay. Thank God for them.
Jeff and I had a big hug this morning. It was the first time we touched each other since Friday. We also gossiped and talked about other stuff today. I think we may get through this. I think even though it sucks it may be good that this happened-- we are entering a new stage of human development.
I talked to Levia today. I don't feel any need to advertise this or to talk it to death but I feel about a million pounds lighter since I talked to her. I got what I needed: a nonjudgmental sympathetic and helpful ear. She's been there and was full of tips and optimism but mostly she listened and didn't judge and some of the heaviness is gone.
It was rainy today and I was really wondering how I was going to get out of taking the kids to see Harry Potter 6. They've only been looking forward to it all summer and today was raining and they had no plans and I was dreading it. But somehow they didn't ask. Nor did they ask to go to any stores. Instead they asked for a play date. The best things in life really are free.
Malaya came over. Malaya is a little girl who at some point had the potential to be a bitchy "it-girl", but turned nice. Her parents got divorced, her mother moved out, and suddenly the little vixen whom I never wanted in my home turned sweet. She likes to help me bake. She includes Eli in their games. She got Mira a stuffed cat for her birthday. Two years ago it was a Bratz doll. Anyway, a few minutes before Malaya was to arrive her dad called me nearly in tears. Malaya needed to rest due to a scuffle with her older brother. Ian, Malaya's brother, from what I've heard, is not a good kid. I'm afraid to imagine want he did to her. The pain in the father's voice was enough to convince me that we are lucky to have the troubles that we do.
I told the kids at the beginning of the week that they could pick out a treat from the pool only once this week. Today was the day they chose. I really had to tell them 50 times that today will be the only day. This is good for all of us. There's no need for the daily pool treat. I told them to each choose an ice cream that cost a dollar. No one complained. I am already seeing that they are going to whether this okay. Thank God for them.
Jeff and I had a big hug this morning. It was the first time we touched each other since Friday. We also gossiped and talked about other stuff today. I think we may get through this. I think even though it sucks it may be good that this happened-- we are entering a new stage of human development.
I talked to Levia today. I don't feel any need to advertise this or to talk it to death but I feel about a million pounds lighter since I talked to her. I got what I needed: a nonjudgmental sympathetic and helpful ear. She's been there and was full of tips and optimism but mostly she listened and didn't judge and some of the heaviness is gone.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
its the end of the world as we know it
its 2:24 am on August 11th.
Officially the world hasn't ended. Officially its still opened for business, but my body is in crisis mode. I recognize it by now, the symptoms are familiar: lack of appetite followed by voracious hunger, emotions ranging from despair to strange euphoria, an eerie calm which so doesn't match what's going on inside, and of course, insomnia. Hence, the 2:00 revival of a blog that's been dead for over a year and feels like it was written by another person.
The symptoms are like when Mom first was diagnosed with the brain tumor, or when she was at her sickest, and when she died. Or when each kid was born, or 9-11 and that ridiculous aftermath. A sense that you are the same person walking around in a new and wholly unfamiliar world.
So what happened?
Saturday:
A trip to the coast with Erica and the kids. Insufficient funds to cover your bread and cherries from whole foods. Why'd you have to go to whole foods anyway? The bank is closed. We can't get online, Jeff never set up our online account when WaMu got bought by Chase. A day of sandy anxiety. Pizza--really the best pizza in the world. Erica offers to pay, I tell her not to be silly. Ice cream afterwards. Turns out that this will be our last meal out in a long time. Glad it was so good.
Being on the coast all day with Erica and the kids is not a bad way to spend the first day of destitution. Really, if I had to pick something to do. We get home at 11:00 and prepare the kids for their joint sleepover.
Jeff and I hash it out until 1:00 am or so. I can't deal with him, I try to push any feelings of anger away. I sleep for 2 or 3 hours. Mostly I get up to pee.
Sunday:
At 6:15 I get out of bed and drive over to the bank. I need to see for myself that its real. Why are we so damn stupid? What kind of grown ups let their money disappear without paying attention? Who are we anyway? In some ways it negates all of the real adult stuff that we do. If we can't manage our money, and really were we even trying, than do we even deserve to be raising these kids? Who are they being raised by anyway?
Our branch is closed (of course) but what I didn't know was that since the ATM is in the lobby, and the lobby is locked I can't get in to check our balance on the ATM. The universe is telling me to go home. I ignore the universe and drive over to the chase ATM and Fred Meyer.
I'm in my pajamas and the parking lot is full even though Freddie's won't open for the next 30 minutes or so. If i'd have known there'd be so many people here I might have gotten dressed. There's someone smoking next to the ATM. I consider bumming a smoke from him. For the next two days, anytime I see someone smoking I'll consider bumming a smoke.
The machine tells me that we have -892 dollars.
Shit.
We get through Sunday in a haze.
Mira and Madeline are at our house, Henry and Eli at Erica's. Jeff tells me that he hasn't had much work in the past few months. Clearly. He hasn't. Nice of him to tell me now. We come up with a tentative plan. There is still money of course, not much left really, but enough to get us by. But this can never happen again. If it does we will lose everything. All of our things will be lost. I can't look at him. Its not his fault that I'm in this situation. Nobody over the age of 18 has any right to expect someone else to take care of them. But still, its more his fault than mine. We both know this. I imagine that this is what it feels like when you find out that your husband is having an affair.
The girls spend the day at our house. Jeff takes the boys to OMSI (we still have a membership). We talk a little but mostly we tiptoe around each other. I eat cold pasta with a can of tomato sauce, straight from the can for dinner with Eli while Jeff drives the girls to their party. Mira will sleep at Madeline's tonight. They are having some kind of strange romance. I know when I look back on this time Erica and her kids will be a big part of what i remember.
Erica is the only person who has the slightest inkling of what is going on with us. I haven't talked to anyone about it which is strange for me. I'm dying to talk to Levia, or Libby, or Beth, but I don't.
I go to bed at 9:30 and I sleep well. Jeff asks if he can kiss me goodnight and I let him. I'm pretty sure but not as positive as I'd like to be that we can survive this together.
Monday
I go for a run. It really feels good. Its the nicest day of the summer so far in this fucking ridiculous summer. Jeff tells me before I go that he's finally manged to get online. I don't care anymore, I mean I do, but right now the only thing that matters to me is lacing up my sneakers and running out the door. I tell him he can show me when I get back but I end up running for an hour. By the time I get home its time to get Eli ready to spend an hour at Erica's while we go to the bank.
We wait a long time to see someone at Chase. Finally a tall bald guy in his early 50's takes us back. He is exceedingly kind and calm, the exact kind of person you want in this situation. He is the wise doctor, the good cop. He gives us a new kind of checking account to match our, ahem, current situation, tells us that he'll try to rush the funds Jeff deposited on Saturday morning into our account. Takes off a few fines we had for going under the minimum for our premier checking account.
We pick up the kids. Mira and Madeline look like lovers preparing to separate. Its time to take Mira home, I need them both at home now.
My two exhausted little ones collapse on the couch in front of Tom and Jerry and I spend the next hour online, bit by bit, meal by meal, trip by trip, camp by camp, examining our financial demise. Our records over the last six months look like something out of a greek tragedy. I can remember spending every single one of those dollars without a care in the world.
Particularly painful to read about is last weekend. Last weekend when the kids spent the night at the Friedmans, and we went to a movie, and drinks, and dinner, and breakfast the next day. Not one dime of what we spent that weekend was real, every bit of it overdrawn. That whole weekend feels like it happened about a million years ago. Or to someone else. Or like I'm looking at it through a cloudy shower door.
I'm going to try to sleep now. More tomorrow.
This is your life Amy Katz or it used to be.
After my depressing plunge into the person I used to be, I finally hear back from Brian in Kansas City. Mom's stockbroker and the person who will rescue us from this mess. Just hearing that Kansas City twang makes me want to cry and hide my head and run. I tell him I need money, he tells me that I'll have it by the end of the week. I can hear the disappointment in his voice. He knows that I'm a fuck up. Here's what he doesn't say: "It's almost gone, Amy."
Bless him for not saying that.
After I talk to Brian I feed the kids lunch. Stale peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Three of them, whole wheat for me and Eli, white for Mira. I'm starving all of a sudden. How long until we can't afford two different kinds of bread? Eli and I are still eating that fatal bread I bought wth my credit card when the debit card was declined. It tases like guilt, but its all that we have.
Which brings me to my next topic.
THE FAMILY TRIP TO WINCO
We are seriously out of food. No milk. No vegetables. We finished the bread for lunch. No cheese. No pasta, even. We are going to have to shop, but today, and only today we decide that we'll have to buy our groceries with a credit card. At Winco. Levia shops there and so does Mel. They sing its praises all of the time. But I'm a snob and I like New Seasons, or at least Trader Joe's. Now I like Winco. Any type of food you can imagine, in bulk, cheap. Really cheap. It looks like a store that I'd hate: big and warehousy. But you know what? I loved it. I felt like I walked into one giant hug. Its okay Amy, the universe seemed to be saying, you can still eat, you can still feed your family. Good wholesome (if not exactly local or organic but I suddenly stopped caring about any of that) food, and you can afford it too. You can even buy Doritos and fake Oreos for the kids. They love it, its a new adventure. Can you believe I used to hate going to grocery stores where you had to bag your own groceries? Who the fuck cares if you have to bag your own groceries when they are so cheap?
Except, well, when its time to pay, we've unloaded everything and I'm sedulously bagging away, we find out that, naturally, WINCO DOESN'T TAKE CREDIT CARDS! Of course they don't. Jeff looks at me. For the first time since this all started we laugh. We are ourselves. We may not get to eat but we still have that. Jeff tries the ATM and it works. So maybe the damn checks from Saturday have cleared? Who knows, the Katzes have food! And we payed probably (remember how I'm not good at paying attention to these things?) half of what we normally do. Go us! And we may be back. Except of course for the car ride home.
Amy: "Are we going to be charged a fee, do you think, for paying for these groceries. Are we still officially overdrawn?"
Jeff: "That would suck! It would negate all of that savings, wouldn't it?"
We are such fuck ups!
When we get home I call Eric from the bank. I tell him that I went to Winco, which is after all, a discount grocery store because my kids have to eat and now I'm worried that I'll be charged a penalty on my groceries. He very kindly tells me that if such a charge pops up he'll remove it. I thank him. I think that I love him.
Jeff is going to use the rest of our cash to buy a pound of coffee at Peets. We agree on this. We need our coffee. Its medical really, or at least it feels this way.
I want to call Levia or Beth but I don't. I'm not sure how long I can go without talking about this.
After the kids go to bed Jeff and I sit outside and eat white bean soup and try to talk about other stuff. We are having a hard time making eye contact. Is it my imagination or does the soup taste funny? Its my imagination, I tell myself firmly, you are lucky to have food.
Later on as we are watching TV and trying to forget I start to get mad again. I haven't really felt anger, but I do now, full blown rancor. I go upstairs, and I don't kiss back when Jeff comes up to say goodnight. Its so hot in our room but we don't dare flick on the air conditioner. I really hope it doesn't get unbearably hot again.
I wake up at 1:00 am in white hot panic.
Tuesday:
There's suddenly so much to do! I must take out student loans and cancel the paper and check on our accounts and see if we can find cheaper health insurance and a million other things. I still have to study too. Today we are supposed to go to meetings at the synagogue, and I promised I'd take the kids to free swim. Mira, whose heard a lot, probably too much of the ongoing conversation in the house offers to "lend" me the money to pay for free swim. I take her up on it since I gave my last $5 to Mel. We were meeting at her house and she had a mattress delivered. The delivery people brought the mattress upstairs and then Mel asked me and Sarah if we had any cash ten bucks or so to tip the guy. I'm an idiot! Can you believe I looked in my wallet, found, literally the last $5 to my name, and, get this, gave it to her. I really suck at this. I'm not sure why I just didn't tell her that I had no cash when she asked. Now, I'm stuck borrowing money from Mira to pay for us to go swimming.
The good new is that on Tuesday Grant pool offers a 2 for 1 discount. Instead of nine dollars for the three of us I pay six fifty. Whoo hoo! I feel a little better about giving Mel the money.
I diligently put my receipts for the pool and scrawl on a yellow note pad $5 Mel and put it in our brand new envelope marked "receipts." The plan is that we'll go through them every Sunday, and do this every week until we are back on our feet. I notice Jeff's receipt from Peets. It includes 1.60 for an iced coffee along with our pound. I try not to be furious. I mean, really, he's been through hell and back too. He feels like death. I can't even imagine how he feels. He deserves his iced coffee. But still, it prickles.
Officially the world hasn't ended. Officially its still opened for business, but my body is in crisis mode. I recognize it by now, the symptoms are familiar: lack of appetite followed by voracious hunger, emotions ranging from despair to strange euphoria, an eerie calm which so doesn't match what's going on inside, and of course, insomnia. Hence, the 2:00 revival of a blog that's been dead for over a year and feels like it was written by another person.
The symptoms are like when Mom first was diagnosed with the brain tumor, or when she was at her sickest, and when she died. Or when each kid was born, or 9-11 and that ridiculous aftermath. A sense that you are the same person walking around in a new and wholly unfamiliar world.
So what happened?
Saturday:
A trip to the coast with Erica and the kids. Insufficient funds to cover your bread and cherries from whole foods. Why'd you have to go to whole foods anyway? The bank is closed. We can't get online, Jeff never set up our online account when WaMu got bought by Chase. A day of sandy anxiety. Pizza--really the best pizza in the world. Erica offers to pay, I tell her not to be silly. Ice cream afterwards. Turns out that this will be our last meal out in a long time. Glad it was so good.
Being on the coast all day with Erica and the kids is not a bad way to spend the first day of destitution. Really, if I had to pick something to do. We get home at 11:00 and prepare the kids for their joint sleepover.
Jeff and I hash it out until 1:00 am or so. I can't deal with him, I try to push any feelings of anger away. I sleep for 2 or 3 hours. Mostly I get up to pee.
Sunday:
At 6:15 I get out of bed and drive over to the bank. I need to see for myself that its real. Why are we so damn stupid? What kind of grown ups let their money disappear without paying attention? Who are we anyway? In some ways it negates all of the real adult stuff that we do. If we can't manage our money, and really were we even trying, than do we even deserve to be raising these kids? Who are they being raised by anyway?
Our branch is closed (of course) but what I didn't know was that since the ATM is in the lobby, and the lobby is locked I can't get in to check our balance on the ATM. The universe is telling me to go home. I ignore the universe and drive over to the chase ATM and Fred Meyer.
I'm in my pajamas and the parking lot is full even though Freddie's won't open for the next 30 minutes or so. If i'd have known there'd be so many people here I might have gotten dressed. There's someone smoking next to the ATM. I consider bumming a smoke from him. For the next two days, anytime I see someone smoking I'll consider bumming a smoke.
The machine tells me that we have -892 dollars.
Shit.
We get through Sunday in a haze.
Mira and Madeline are at our house, Henry and Eli at Erica's. Jeff tells me that he hasn't had much work in the past few months. Clearly. He hasn't. Nice of him to tell me now. We come up with a tentative plan. There is still money of course, not much left really, but enough to get us by. But this can never happen again. If it does we will lose everything. All of our things will be lost. I can't look at him. Its not his fault that I'm in this situation. Nobody over the age of 18 has any right to expect someone else to take care of them. But still, its more his fault than mine. We both know this. I imagine that this is what it feels like when you find out that your husband is having an affair.
The girls spend the day at our house. Jeff takes the boys to OMSI (we still have a membership). We talk a little but mostly we tiptoe around each other. I eat cold pasta with a can of tomato sauce, straight from the can for dinner with Eli while Jeff drives the girls to their party. Mira will sleep at Madeline's tonight. They are having some kind of strange romance. I know when I look back on this time Erica and her kids will be a big part of what i remember.
Erica is the only person who has the slightest inkling of what is going on with us. I haven't talked to anyone about it which is strange for me. I'm dying to talk to Levia, or Libby, or Beth, but I don't.
I go to bed at 9:30 and I sleep well. Jeff asks if he can kiss me goodnight and I let him. I'm pretty sure but not as positive as I'd like to be that we can survive this together.
Monday
I go for a run. It really feels good. Its the nicest day of the summer so far in this fucking ridiculous summer. Jeff tells me before I go that he's finally manged to get online. I don't care anymore, I mean I do, but right now the only thing that matters to me is lacing up my sneakers and running out the door. I tell him he can show me when I get back but I end up running for an hour. By the time I get home its time to get Eli ready to spend an hour at Erica's while we go to the bank.
We wait a long time to see someone at Chase. Finally a tall bald guy in his early 50's takes us back. He is exceedingly kind and calm, the exact kind of person you want in this situation. He is the wise doctor, the good cop. He gives us a new kind of checking account to match our, ahem, current situation, tells us that he'll try to rush the funds Jeff deposited on Saturday morning into our account. Takes off a few fines we had for going under the minimum for our premier checking account.
We pick up the kids. Mira and Madeline look like lovers preparing to separate. Its time to take Mira home, I need them both at home now.
My two exhausted little ones collapse on the couch in front of Tom and Jerry and I spend the next hour online, bit by bit, meal by meal, trip by trip, camp by camp, examining our financial demise. Our records over the last six months look like something out of a greek tragedy. I can remember spending every single one of those dollars without a care in the world.
Particularly painful to read about is last weekend. Last weekend when the kids spent the night at the Friedmans, and we went to a movie, and drinks, and dinner, and breakfast the next day. Not one dime of what we spent that weekend was real, every bit of it overdrawn. That whole weekend feels like it happened about a million years ago. Or to someone else. Or like I'm looking at it through a cloudy shower door.
I'm going to try to sleep now. More tomorrow.
This is your life Amy Katz or it used to be.
After my depressing plunge into the person I used to be, I finally hear back from Brian in Kansas City. Mom's stockbroker and the person who will rescue us from this mess. Just hearing that Kansas City twang makes me want to cry and hide my head and run. I tell him I need money, he tells me that I'll have it by the end of the week. I can hear the disappointment in his voice. He knows that I'm a fuck up. Here's what he doesn't say: "It's almost gone, Amy."
Bless him for not saying that.
After I talk to Brian I feed the kids lunch. Stale peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Three of them, whole wheat for me and Eli, white for Mira. I'm starving all of a sudden. How long until we can't afford two different kinds of bread? Eli and I are still eating that fatal bread I bought wth my credit card when the debit card was declined. It tases like guilt, but its all that we have.
Which brings me to my next topic.
THE FAMILY TRIP TO WINCO
We are seriously out of food. No milk. No vegetables. We finished the bread for lunch. No cheese. No pasta, even. We are going to have to shop, but today, and only today we decide that we'll have to buy our groceries with a credit card. At Winco. Levia shops there and so does Mel. They sing its praises all of the time. But I'm a snob and I like New Seasons, or at least Trader Joe's. Now I like Winco. Any type of food you can imagine, in bulk, cheap. Really cheap. It looks like a store that I'd hate: big and warehousy. But you know what? I loved it. I felt like I walked into one giant hug. Its okay Amy, the universe seemed to be saying, you can still eat, you can still feed your family. Good wholesome (if not exactly local or organic but I suddenly stopped caring about any of that) food, and you can afford it too. You can even buy Doritos and fake Oreos for the kids. They love it, its a new adventure. Can you believe I used to hate going to grocery stores where you had to bag your own groceries? Who the fuck cares if you have to bag your own groceries when they are so cheap?
Except, well, when its time to pay, we've unloaded everything and I'm sedulously bagging away, we find out that, naturally, WINCO DOESN'T TAKE CREDIT CARDS! Of course they don't. Jeff looks at me. For the first time since this all started we laugh. We are ourselves. We may not get to eat but we still have that. Jeff tries the ATM and it works. So maybe the damn checks from Saturday have cleared? Who knows, the Katzes have food! And we payed probably (remember how I'm not good at paying attention to these things?) half of what we normally do. Go us! And we may be back. Except of course for the car ride home.
Amy: "Are we going to be charged a fee, do you think, for paying for these groceries. Are we still officially overdrawn?"
Jeff: "That would suck! It would negate all of that savings, wouldn't it?"
We are such fuck ups!
When we get home I call Eric from the bank. I tell him that I went to Winco, which is after all, a discount grocery store because my kids have to eat and now I'm worried that I'll be charged a penalty on my groceries. He very kindly tells me that if such a charge pops up he'll remove it. I thank him. I think that I love him.
Jeff is going to use the rest of our cash to buy a pound of coffee at Peets. We agree on this. We need our coffee. Its medical really, or at least it feels this way.
I want to call Levia or Beth but I don't. I'm not sure how long I can go without talking about this.
After the kids go to bed Jeff and I sit outside and eat white bean soup and try to talk about other stuff. We are having a hard time making eye contact. Is it my imagination or does the soup taste funny? Its my imagination, I tell myself firmly, you are lucky to have food.
Later on as we are watching TV and trying to forget I start to get mad again. I haven't really felt anger, but I do now, full blown rancor. I go upstairs, and I don't kiss back when Jeff comes up to say goodnight. Its so hot in our room but we don't dare flick on the air conditioner. I really hope it doesn't get unbearably hot again.
I wake up at 1:00 am in white hot panic.
Tuesday:
There's suddenly so much to do! I must take out student loans and cancel the paper and check on our accounts and see if we can find cheaper health insurance and a million other things. I still have to study too. Today we are supposed to go to meetings at the synagogue, and I promised I'd take the kids to free swim. Mira, whose heard a lot, probably too much of the ongoing conversation in the house offers to "lend" me the money to pay for free swim. I take her up on it since I gave my last $5 to Mel. We were meeting at her house and she had a mattress delivered. The delivery people brought the mattress upstairs and then Mel asked me and Sarah if we had any cash ten bucks or so to tip the guy. I'm an idiot! Can you believe I looked in my wallet, found, literally the last $5 to my name, and, get this, gave it to her. I really suck at this. I'm not sure why I just didn't tell her that I had no cash when she asked. Now, I'm stuck borrowing money from Mira to pay for us to go swimming.
The good new is that on Tuesday Grant pool offers a 2 for 1 discount. Instead of nine dollars for the three of us I pay six fifty. Whoo hoo! I feel a little better about giving Mel the money.
I diligently put my receipts for the pool and scrawl on a yellow note pad $5 Mel and put it in our brand new envelope marked "receipts." The plan is that we'll go through them every Sunday, and do this every week until we are back on our feet. I notice Jeff's receipt from Peets. It includes 1.60 for an iced coffee along with our pound. I try not to be furious. I mean, really, he's been through hell and back too. He feels like death. I can't even imagine how he feels. He deserves his iced coffee. But still, it prickles.
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