I am weighing my personal value. It weighs less each day. Unlike my girth which seems to grow uglier and rounder by the day. I left my job. I walked away from my career which had fizzled down to a pitiful job as a desk jockey. Sure, I did the right thing. Sure, it was going to make my health better. Sure, it was going to sooth my wounded soul. Right. Sure. Really? So I spend a summer rattling around my house. I managed to paint one small cupboard and put new door pulls on it. What a marvelous, spectacular remodel project! I cleaned the bathrooms. I never did transplant the lilies. I never got around to moving the peonies from that too shady spot. I did not get around to starting that short story that is rattling around in my head. Oh wait, yes I did start it. Then I deleted it because it sounded incredibly pedantic. I put on my elastic waistband pants and got ready to be a substitute teacher. I compiled supplies to take with me on my sub jobs. I read materials about sub survival. I got my licenses up to date, set my preferences in the substitute software module. And when the job finally came to me, I turned it down. I screwed up my courage and did finally take a day's work and nearly threw up in the morning. As I drove to the school my hands were clammy. I was afraid to do this. But I went into the building after several serious moments thinking I'd just turn around and go home. I survived the day. I probably did OK. I don't know. I will only know if I blew it -- if the teacher requests that I never sub in her class again. Haven't heard that... hope that won't happen. I need structure and order. I need to know what I'm going to be doing each day. This waiting to hear my laptop go BING! to let me know there is a job I can take a look at accepting is crazy. I need to make a living. So I have put in applications at the university and more applications at the school system. But will I even get an interview? I have become a sorry sad sack. I am feeling pitiful. It is horrible to feel this way. It is stupid and self serving and useless. Useless I say. Useless. that's how I feel. I clean the litter box, do the dishes, put out the trash. Check emails, do some correspondence. Wind down some of my volunteer stuff. I made a short speech in front of a full auditorium - and I managed to get laughs in the places I intended. That was great. That felt great. I met my daughter's teachers and really enjoyed the evening going from class to class. Her media literacy class looks like a gas. I wish I could sit in on that one... Being in the school makes me happy. So, I have to find myself a niche - and figure out a way to get a paying gig in the school system. Subbing is going to send me over the edge. Somebody give me a classroom!! Or a clerical job... You have no idea how good I can be... hope no one reads this. it is pitiful. but it's no longer inside me and that's what counts. Better out than in.