What a Difference a Day Makes

I owe you one.

Go ahead. You earned it.

Christmas 2014

The day after my last post I got a part-time job. Well, another part-time job. I already had two—my main gig as a personal trainer and a side hustle as a party helper. Three if you count this blog. And four if you count my teeny-tiny hustle hand-painting press-on nails. I was training at my new job over the weekend, which is when I normally blog, which is why this post is two days late.

I got the job in order to help with the suddenly steep college bills we were faced with when Mr. Miller realized that Miss Miller’s college tuition was double what we’d anticipated. I’d wanted another part-time job for a while for other reasons—to get out of the house, to relieve Mr. Miller of his sole bread-winning burden, and to better afford my “shopping projects.” But I never followed through with it.

It’s funny though, what happens when life puts the squeeze on you. You push forward like a tank, plowing through any impulse to waffle, “what if, or wait another day. In that sense, our little college crisis was exactly what I needed.

So here we are. I’m a part-time bartender now. And still happily sober mind you. 115 days today.

The only thing is, Mr. Miller was wrong. Miss Miller’s tuition IS forty-thousand a year. My husband freaked out, like he sometimes does over money, and read the tuition page wrong. He kept focusing on the word “semester” and got it lodged in his head that the figures listed reflected cost per half the year.

I believed it because I’ve come to expect the worst from American colleges. I believed it because after what happened with our local high school, I wanted it to be true, despite the fact that I felt terrible for my daughter’s heartbreak. So we went on a rollercoaster ride—taking turns crying, none of us sleeping, all of us rearranging our lives to help Miss Miller find an alternate route to success.

And of course I reached out to YOU for help and you showed up. I got so many good ideas that I felt a little sad when it turned out we could afford to send Miss Miller to college.

Despite our decision to stick with our original conventional plan I am grateful for each and every one of you. And I’m sorry I dragged you on the rollercoaster with us.

More on the state of this crazy old world soon. In the meantime, drinks are on me.

🍻