For the last two weeks I have felt desperate. A part of each day seemed to revolve around one crisis: how will I get money for pizza?
I have once again found myself unemployed. My teaching job ended in June and summer school didn’t pan out. I also didn’t qualify for unemployment. I’m currently without an income.
I’m all right. I don’t have many expenses and I have a very generous mother. But my Mom hates fast food and would never give me money for it. So I tried to devise other solutions.
I tried to borrow money from my brother, but he is almost as broke as I am. Every morning for a week, I woke up and tried to figure out a way to get pizza. I would put off eating breakfast until my stomach rumbled because I was sure that day would be the day that some way, somehow I would get my pizza.
It wasn’t until Thursday when I was dealing with yet another frustrating crisis that I realized exactly how fortunate I am.
I am healthy. I live in a nice house. I have enough to eat. I have all of my needs met. Yet I’m grumpy and desperate for takeout? My biggest problem is that I don’t have mad money to spend on pizza? Really? I feel both ridiculous and grateful; ridiculous for being so worked up over fast food and grateful that God gave me the insight to see how small my “problems” really are.