I couldn’t find the right words for it, and was unable to pinpoint my desire. Did it even have a name? The wish to have less restlessness, to be less overwhelmed, less of everything? Less cleaning, less sorting, fewer worries, no overthinking?
Category: <span>Losing it All</span>
The journey of an author begins after the book is published!
(The Happy Quitter)
First, I bought a new microphone, because, of course, I will narrate my own book. Everybody is doing it, right? Well, turns out I am not everybody. I sound terrible, and it’s not just my accent.
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My book “Losing It All” is now a hardcover, a paperback, and, of course, an eBook. Not just at Amazon globally, but also at Lulu and Barnes and Noble. What an exciting week it has been to see it all come to life. Fly, little book, I’ve set you free.
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Yesterday, my husband found $600 at his job site. The amount is a guess. I assume it was more -four hundred dollar bills, fifty and twenties, a few tens, and no telling what was in the envelope.
I had spent all afternoon washing and wringing our clothes, and when our freshly cleaned laundry was hanging on the clothesline outside, I noticed the smell. The old, banged-up washer that had been given to us, wasn’t doing the job, and trying to do our laundry by hand wasn’t an ideal solution either. We needed to get a washer and dryer fast!
His smile gave it all away, he was beaming with joy. “Throw it all in the dumpster,” the manager had ordered when the company he worked for delivered new cubicles and panel systems, and that’s when my husband spoke up and had asked if he could take them instead. Before the day was over, he had written permission, stating he could take all the cabinets and worksurfaces.
My husband’s second paycheck, still under a thousand dollars for two full weeks of work, was celebrated the same way as the first one. We drove to the bank together, cashed the check, and back at home, we got the hidden cash out of the kitchen drawer. We called our landlord, asked him if he wanted to pick up the rent, and an hour later he parked in our driveway.
She invited me to stop at her little shop the next time my grandma and I would drive down to the village. “You come by and pick out what you want.” I could not wait. I had helped at our neighbor’s farm for days and even though I was young, my work and my assistance had been appreciated.
It was the end of April in 2010, and we had big plans for the coming weekend. We needed to make it only through another week, then my husband would get paid again. We had $80 left to spend, the fridge and freezer were still nicely stocked, and we only needed a few fresh groceries to make it to the coming week.