Glad That's Over With

[WAH! I had this post all written out, and then went to put N to sleep, and fell asleep on his bed with him, and so missed posting it yesterday, and now I'm worried that I'm going to be ruthlessly shunned by all other NaBloPoMo participants because even though I'm keeping the original posting date of the 13th, this really didn't go up until the 14th, and I feel so INADEQUATE! Damn that decision to be a mother; it screws up everything!]

So: My car. Nearly $900, a new water pump, a new radiator, an engine flush, a fluid replacement and an oil change later...It looks like I've been spared. There aren't that many times in my life when I will be willing to admit that dropping a grand (if you add in the cost of the rental car) is being "spared," but when you consider that I'm less than two months away from losing two-thirds of my salary, and a major engine overhaul would have probably meant we'd dump that car and get a new-to-us/used one instead, no doubt taking on SOME kind of monthly payment in addition to the health insurance we're now going to have to pay for...well, I call that spared.

I have been spending such an inordinate amount of time thinking about/worrying about/obsessing about money lately. And yet, I've come to realize, I'm kind of a hypocrite about it, because I don't really want to take anyone's advice on how to solve some of the problems-to-be, since that would involve doing things I don't want to do, and/or giving up on things I do want to do, like staying home.

It all came home to me about a week and a half ago, when I was working in the kitchen of my synagogue during Mitzvah Day, making ziti casseroles for families in our community who are in need. I was talking with one of my friends there, telling her about how I was losing my job, and she went straight into "I'm going to fix this for you" mode. And me? If I'd been furred, you'd have been able to literally watch my hackles rise. Instead of thanking her, I argued with her about how I really did have a plan, I really did have it under control, that I didn't have to give up my working from home just yet, that it would all work out in the end. I'm sure she was completely confused by my reaction; I know I was. In retrospect, I'm not even sure the words 'thank you for your concern, though' came out of my mouth at all.

Ah, well. It's not like any of this will stop me from kvetching about it constantly; I'll just have to watch who I kvetch TO. Like you guys. If you all start giving me advice I don't want, I can ignore you. It's harder to do that, though, when you're elbow-to-elbow in a small kitchen, hands sunk deep in marinara and ricotta cheese.