I need, need for it to be about four hours in the future, y’all. Four hours in the future (hell, maybe three by now, I dunno) is when I get to eat my dinner, and I’ve spent most of the last two days wanting to eat today’s dinner. And some cole slaw. And maybe some chips and French Onion dip.
And maybe six hours of treadmill/exercise bike time after that.
Mmmmm giant slab of piiiiiiiig.
Been tossing around ideas for ways to make more money lately, and I think I may have to see if I can work with a homebound kid next year. This would mean that in addition to my regular classroom duties I’d spend two hours a day after school working with one kid, someone who for some reason (generally, behavioral) has been deemed unable to attend school with everyone else and thus has to receive his education in an alternate setting.
It’s going to be a lot of work, but my brother did it last year and it’s really good money for the extra work. Whether it’s enough to make it worth it will no doubt depend on the kid I end up with. Even the worst-behaved student is often easier to deal with in a one-on-one setting where they don’t have anyone to show off for, so hopefully that’ll work out decently. If not, these types of things are generally relatively short-term, four to six weeks at a time with one student. I can put up with anything for a month and a half, right? He said?
I dunno. I’m turning 37 next week, which means I will officially be in my Late Thirties, and it’s kind of messing with my head a little bit. Generally I haven’t been too affected by my birthdays; I was happy to turn both 30 and 35, but 37… yikes. I made a lot of bad decisions about money in my twenties (some more justifiable than others) that I have spent most of my thirties trying to undo. I had a solid plan at one point to be free of credit card debt by my fortieth birthday; it’s not as on track right now as it was at the beginning of 2013 because everything in my house keeps exploding and my son had to have tubes put in his ears and my car and blah blah blah life intervenes in your plans, but I’m not too far off, especially if I manage to find a way to bring in some extra funds.
“Write a book!” my brain tells me.
“Shut the fuck up, brain,” the rest of me tells my brain.
Anyway, a homebound kid is more realistic. I’d basically never be home from school before 5:30, and I’d have to shift some things at Other Job around once it kicked in, and it’s entirely possible it’ll make me crazy, but it’s better than being broke, right?