Working overtime

I've taken on several part-time jobs in order to be able to afford the little luxuries of life: living indoors with electricity and bathing/washing with hot and cold running water. Eating is a plus, too. The first job entails working from 9 p.m. to 1 a.m. everyday. The second job is twice a week for a total of 6 - 12 hours. The third job is three times a week for a total of twelve hours. That makes 43 - 49 hours a week. That doesn't sound like much but it sure feels like I'm working all the time.

The weird hours make it do-able to go to school, be at home with Butterfly when she's home and awake, and care for Mama when she needs it (if she ever talks to me again). I'm feeling a tad stretched in many directions. Is this what's meant by a "growing experience"?

So now I find myself needing to become more organized and efficient. Easy but nourishing meals, cleaning in sprints, laundry one load at a time rather than all at once. Homework instead of reading for relaxation. Reading in the bathroom. Sleeping in sprints. This doesn't feel like an ideal life. So I'm trying to find the humor in everyday circumstances.

Here's one from yesterday. Butterfly and I got home from spending several hours at Pupukea Beach with a friend (she swam and I slept). I opened the front door to find that Odin had thrown up some plant material right at the entrance. Hmmm, what plant matter could he have gotten into? My eyes drifted to my potted pot plants (remember, we are doing this legally). Sure enough, Odin had eaten the healthiest pot plant and had nosed up the others. Perhaps that's why he was such a HAPPY dog for the rest of the evening! Nice to know that the stuff works! Now do I have to worry about my dog becoming a chronic (non-medical) user?

And today: As we drove home from church we noticed a white "thing" being attacked by birds in our neighbor's yard. Buttterfly went over to investigate and came home saying, "Mom, Mom, there's a baby sheep-like thing in the yard. It looks like it's still breathing!" So off I trot to rescue the "baby sheep-like thing" from the Hitchcockian birds. Birds scatter as I get nearer. And the "baby sheep-like thing" turns out to be...RICE. Butterfly was afraid to get close enough to the
"dying" white thing to see what it was. I guess a mound of rice CAN look like it's breathing...

Anyway, if my writing begins to looks a little strange, you'll know the reason. At least you'll get to benefit from my increasingly skewed look at life.