Jaspie, enjoying the new couch.
Jaspie, enjoying the new couch.
Today feels like the beach after a storm. My sand is all torn up, shells shattered and cast about, yet somehow I’ve survived, feeling slightly refreshed and very cleansed.
The rollercoaster that is my life continues. Today I finally received an offer from my company for permanent employment. While I was picking up the offer letter, I got a phone call with another permanent job offer, from the shelter. My heart burns a bit — it’s so difficult to admit that as much as I hate it, money is number one for me right now. Because my number twos are in the future, and they require funding, and being an adult means being able to prioritize and delay gratification. The job full of meaning, consistent with my life’s purpose, pays $10 an hour and offers no benefits. The job I’ve chosen offers me nearly three times that hourly rate, health care, 3 weeks paid vacation, 14 paid holidays, sick time, dental, kayak parking, 401K, bonuses and a cushy desk chair.
I rationalize it thus: my skills, ideas and smarts are not best put to use at the bottom of the heap. What I mean is, I think my personal resources could be put to better use than as a companion animal adoption counselor and/or kennel cleaner. On the average Saturday, I review twenty to thirty applications, convert five or six people to keeping their cats indoors when unsupervised, teach twelve people why dry kibble is the worst thing you can feed your cat, I educate four people on why declawing is inhumane and often creates more problems than it solves, and I nurse two ill-at-ease kitties back to social health. It feels like a full day, but my scope has got to be much bigger if I’m going to feel like I’m making a dent in what needs to be done. With time, energy, and yes — money — to work on my web site and write my book, I can aim at educating thousands of people in the same amount of time it takes me to deny three people an adoption. I don’t think I have what it takes to be in the trenches every day, dealing with the grief and idiot brigade. That takes a very special breed of person. Maybe that’s why many of the full-time shelter people I’ve met seemed detached and disenchanted. I wonder which came first.
So taking a well-paying, cushy job close to home with full benefits means that much more time and mental resources are available for writing my City Cats book and filling my web site with highly useful content. The trade-off is that I have to wear sensible shoes and show up at 8:30 every morning for my daily dose of carpal tunnel and recycled air. I’m thinking it’s worth it.
Also, I have been employing the power of intention manifestation. I am going to start doing long-distance Tarot readings, via email and instant message (or even phone). When telling my sister about this plan, she got very excited and wanted in on it. My sister taught me Tarot when I was about 13. I’ve been doing it ever since. I used to make a decent chunk of change doing party readings at after-proms and bridal showers in Connecticut. $50 an hour, to be exact. Mind you, this is the same pay I would make after two years of massage therapy school. Except without the $15,000 tuition.
Today I registered our domain, and my sister wrote and told me she has ordered us business cards. Her enthusiasm is moving me right along. So we’re going to do this. Soon we will be up and running at tarotsisters.com and you can come find out what the future has in store for you. We accept PayPal. And fudge.
So fun and exciting things. I have requested a week off, and I am awaiting the response. I could really use seven days of uninterrupted lounging and recovery. I’ve held on, but barely.
I have my meditation class tonight. I’m going back and forth in my head about the role of Zen in my life. Sometimes it brings me peace and clarity, and sometimes I think it’s the stupidest fucking thing ever, and totally ridiculous and impractical and I want to smash those smugly-centered enlightenment junkies in the noggin.
I’m also reading The China Study by Dr. T. Colin Campbell. If I could have one wish, it would be that all the people I care about read this book. They don’t even have to do anything about it, just read it. Because I want everyone to have this information, and nobody is getting it, thanks to money and politics. It has huge implications for our future. And for every weird comment I get about the way I choose to eat, I hear another story of someone I know falling ill, often fatally, from diseases that can be prevented 100% through diet — breast cancer and diabetes among them.
I’m getting off my soap box now. But if you want to give me a gift for Christmas, buy yourself a copy of the book.
Happy November, everyone.