After the fog of an entire bottle of Two-Buck-Chuck lifted (I felt that was the most appropriate beverage under the circumstances) I decided that the best thing to do was to clear out my office. At least I could spare myself the humiliation of parading through the building with multiple boxes overflowing with Christmas decorations and my hidden stash of SlimFast. Unbelievably, my husband and I filled my SUV to the roof. Note to self: I would like to be never more than one box away from leaving any job at any time.
I went to the supermarket for my usual Sunday morning paper and sundries purchase. I remembered that California Lottery Ad where the person is standing in front of the cheese case and mumbles to himself that he "can totally afford all this cheese." I begin to realize that if I don't get a job in the next 10 days I won't have a paycheck next month. I look around me and it hits me that I will not be able to afford the cheapest thing in any of these aisles. I begin to look around. Generic soup? Ramen noodles? Does gum have any food value? My heart starts to race and all I can hear is blood rushing in my ears. This must be how Tony Soprano felt when he had a panic attack.
I used to joke about my retirement savings. That I would be surviving on dry cat food in my golden years. That if I could just save a little more, I could life the high life on the canned stuff. Good times. Now, I'm looking sideways at the cat. I get in the check out line and answer the obligatory "paper or plastic" question I begin to think about the paper. Then cardboard. Then cardboard boxes and how I would soon living in one except I would eventually need to turn it in for the recycling money so I'm going to be roaming the streets boxless....I start to cry and the box boy asks, "Maam, did you really want plastic?"