This past week had been busy filled with events and committments. I ran to the edges of the world just to recruit some 'non-traditional' high school students into Americorps, scrambled to meet with the winners of the ultimate shyness honorees also known as Burmese Refugees, and reached deep within my soul to conjur energy to host some volunteers with guacamole/salsa and pineapple jerk burritos {many many thanks to Raging Burrito and the organization credit card}. As hard as I giggled and tap danced, I still had to come to terms with riding the clown bus (aka-public transportation aka MARTA), the redundant emails from my bank blarring my LOW ACCOUNT BALANCE, and opening my ever so empty fridge hoping that on the 3rd or 4th try, food would instantly appear like in the movie The Little Princess.
So on one fine evening after jotting down estimated costs of my sisters going away party, I slumped into the drivers seat of my boyfriends car and could feel my tongue hitting the roof of my mouth in a state of petrification as I struggled not to say NEVVVVVVVVVVERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR AGAIN! I WILL NEVER AGAIN ALLOW MYSELF TO PURPOSFULLY BE THIS BROKE, POOR AND BUSTED. IN ALL MY 29 YEARS OF LIFE.....yea..it poured something like a sonic car horn pressed down by the hand of an idle driver stuck in traffic on thee hottest day.
And then the tears came. Those same tears that always come when you're exhuasted and have just had enough. I sobbed about not being able to do what I want when I wanted. I sobbed at the fact that for some reason Georgias department of humans lack of service keeps denying me food stamps. I sobbed because I wrote a check A CHECK PEOPLE for gas. I sobbed because I'm not even being paid minimum wage. I sobbed because I wanted to shop at Target soooo bad-but I knew I couldn't. I sobbed because I make at poverty line money and I can't even give back to my government because you can't tax the income of damn near 0. I sobbed because I simply do not enjoy living this way. And then I stopped sobbing when a little voice next to me (it was actually my Thomas) said-"You are choosing to do this because you have a plan. Do you realize, some people don't even have a choice-that they must live a certain way because for them..IT IS STRICTLY SO and no matter what they dream about, their sitaution will never change."
Hmm.
This blog is about how a late bloomer-finally takes a stab at some of her personal dreams. Let's start with Dream #1 - JOINING THE PEACE CORPS. Status: Actively serving as a PCV in the Republic of Azerbaijan. But it doesn't stop there...
May 16, 2011
! NEVERRRRRRR!!!!!!
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3 comments:
You are not alone. Before I left for PC I was so broke, I didn't even have the money to buy a suitcase... but honestly, it was the best thing I could have done for me. I learned to live on a budget... heck, I even learned how to budget. I loved it so much, I extended a full year. I just got back to the states in October, and I miss it every day. You're on the right track. Don't ever let money be the judge of a woman. You are welcome to contact me with questions about what it was like to be broke before peace corps and how it effected my service. Hang in there. Contact me! I know I'm in a different time zone but you're welcome to email... also, my blog is here: http://raechellewatkins.blogspot.com
Thomas said it ALL! Your making your dream come true so hang in there!
WOW!
Late comer, but had to acknowledge.
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