Shake fist at the sky and say "Whaaaaaa"

March better go out like a lamb, is all I have to say.

First of the month is always a tidal wave of spending: piano lessons, bills, prescription refills, preschool tuition.  This month we were also hit with the non-monthlies: ballet lessons ($202 for 1/2 semester tuition), Music Together class ($75 for 1/2 quarter tuition), and pool membership ($Pound of Flesh, which we deferred, thank you very much).  But today, the First of March, 2010 I hit the motherlode of spending: dentist appointment with new insurance that doesn't cover anything -  $187, check;  infection in my dog's front paw + ear ointment + heartworm meds (6 month supply) + nail trimming - $197, check (and, oh yeah, bring her back on Friday); a freak swelling in my toddler son's groin (yes, I said groin) that took us to our family doctor ($25) and is leading to a pediatric surgical consultation on Thursday ($40), which could then lead to out-patient surgery ($??) - check.  I'm not working, so I humbly rely on my husband during the dry spring semester.  I cut my own hair.  I clip coupons.  I save birthday money for church tag sale bonanzas.  I shake my fist in the air and bellow.

Tonight, I calmly decided that this isn't working.

So I believe it's time to start tutoring two nights a week.  I've done it before and can make better money doing that a couple hours a week than I would working retail.  And with my crazy schedule as chief family chauffeur, I can't work a 9-5 gig.  I've done that before too, but the cost of childcare barely warrants the effort.  That's why I want so desperately to make money through freelance writing, but obviously I'm growing impatient waiting to have my genius discovered.

So, yes, I'm ranting while I know perfectly well that we could be in such worse shape.  My husband has a great job with excellent benefits.  My kids are (relatively) healthy, although on a side note I did catch vomit in my hands tonight.  We have supportive parents, friends, a nice house, a fluffy dog.  Sure, we can't furnish said house, but who's counting.

I've asked to teach two courses in the fall while I start my MFA.  I just can't bear the thought of living so close to the bone again.

How does any of this relate to the genre of memoir or Auslander?  It doesn't.  I just needed to rant.