About that Job

So, I got a job. I was talking with a woman at my church, who turns out to work with tutors at a private school and knew a lot about tutor opportunities in Seattle. She said, "You can get paid."

Hmm. I've been volunteering, but like many seniors, I've had some recent financial setbacks. Money could be good.

I guess I applied at exactly the right instant, because they trained me two days later -- paid training -- before anybody even met me, let alone said I was hired. I work 3.75 hours a day, four days a week. I make $11.25 an hour.

Which doesn't seem like much, in a way. On the other hand, if I were working a 40-hour week, it would be not too bad. I have unemployed relatives who'd be thrilled to earn $11.25 hour. When I think of families trying to get along on a minimum wage salary! how does anybody do it? And it takes a lot out of you, working.

I don't have to get on my bike to leave until 9:15, and I'm home by 2:30. I know this will get better, but at the moment, I'm tired when I finish. I want tea, shower, nap. So far, I haven't done much more than entertain myself after work.

Though I get a lot done before I leave home. I'm writing this on Friday morning. I had breakfast, and I just made a big batch of blue cheese Waldorf salad for my sack lunch. I read the New York Times. My house is tidy.

And best of all? I noticed this morning that I'm not having those awful dialogues with myself about whether my life is doing anybody any good at all.

I'll tell you about the kids next time.