in my recent and prolonged period of income regression, i've tried not to break down the dollars too much/often. like, gee, my take-home equals "x", what is that per hour? *swoons* well ... what if i add on the commute? hooey, my head spins, my eyeballs hurt and i must ... just... walk... away to seek government cheese.
it makes me fruitlessly angry, so i haven't done it in forever.
however, in my latest spate of interviews (over a week ago, but back-to-back, followed by unrelenting days that did not allow a blog sit-down!) plenty of other people did it for me.
it was fascinating watching the sister/brother combo who are partners, their brains so different. his was more cat's ( like mine), while hers was more linear. she asked about my schedule, all of us kinda laughing about the fallacy of normalcy for peeps like us. i told, and added on the bonus penance of the commute without a car. this was easily flamed by her not really knowing where i *had* to go, so "to the moon!" when she calculated and then verbalized the math, her eyes slowly got wide and i knew she knew i was in a mini-hell.
the previous day's gung-ho set of corporate types had a similar reaction. i've been doing this long enough to recognize genuine shock in the face of a potential abuser, lol.
when my shift's end and its follow are within the frame of less than a night's sleep, i know i'm screwed. never mind the prison sentence of being *out there*. never mind trying to fit in other things, like a life.
gah. phooey.
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