Wedged Between Sorrows

Written at 8:45 this morning:

“And can it be that in a world so full and busy, the loss of one weak creature makes a void in any heart, so wide and deep that nothing but the width and depth of vast eternity can fill it up!”
—From Dombey and Son, by Charles Dickens

Still working on the eulogy.

Still missing the pooch.

And STILL going to court! Yes, today is the bench trial for the crazy guy in my ’hood who continues his verbal assaults on people. Just this week he told a couple he hoped their young son contracted leukemia. I hope the judge takes action today and I don’t have to go anywhere near a court again!


Follow-up written at 6:30 this evening:
Oy! I’ve been in court all bloody day. Both the public defender and the state’s attorney tried to weasel their way into an extension of the case, but thankfully the judge pushed them to finish the job today.

It wasn’t a complete waste of time because I learned a couple of things:
1. The plaintiff is not allowed to hear the testimonies of the defendant or the witnesses—in fact, has to leave the courtroom and hang tight in the hallway.
2. You can file a police report well after an incident occurs—months after, in fact.
Newsflash: Never rely on television for information regarding the legal system.

Results of the Day: Mr. Nasty is under court supervision for the next 3 months and required to attend anger management classes. Kind of a wet-noodle slap, but at least he didn’t win on a technicality. If he slips up and somebody else calls the police, he’ll get arrested and the sentencing may not be so lenient.

One victory down, one eulogy to write…

[I wish I'd been in this court today: A Breach of Promise Suit by Cassius Marcellus Coolidge.]

Congratulations! You're One of 14+ Million!

If you're a no-collar (or as the Feds say, displaced) worker like me, you're in good company. And 14+ million is likely a conservative number. For me, being part of such a large group takes some of the edge off (and the shame and embarrassment) of being unemployed. Of knowing that someone chose me to be unemployed.

But that's only one element of our new lot in life. There are other "edges" to file down: paying bills, purchasing necessities, and remaining courageous while pursuing a job, to name a few.

I'm lucky in a way. My husband and I already lived within our means when he lost his job in 2006 because of an injury, at which time we drastically reduced our expenses. In case you're new to this reduction-in-force/reduction-in-living game, here's a short list of the changes we made:

• No more bottled spring water

• No more dog toys or accessories

• No more just-because-I'm-thinking-of-you gifts for one another or other impulse purchases

• No restaurants

• No trips

• Buy clothes and books from thrift stores instead of boutiques and department stores

• Ride a bike on errands rather than driving a car

Because my employer never paid me market value, my unemployment check doesn't feel much different. And with the government helping out with our healthcare costs, we only had to tweak our already-slim budget. Now I buy groceries according to what's on sale, I eat leftovers from meals I didn't like in the first place until they're gone, I use a razor until it's nearly dull before switching to a new one, I let my hair grow rather than going to the salon.

But I've failed to do the most important thing in the midst of all these changes: Live. Once you cut out all the fun in your life that cost money, it's easy to trap yourself into having no fun at all. To become reclusive. To hit a point of stasis.

It's not so much what you do, though, as how you think. I was reminded of this the other day while reading Steve Crescenzo's eulogy for his father.

It's a lesson in making every day the BEST it can be under the circumstances. It's a lesson in living large by eating well, playing hard, and spending time with who matters to us. It's a lesson we must never forget, regardless of our circumstances.