I went to the YMCA today to see whether I could suspend my membership for a few months while I job hunt. The woman asked to see my layoff proof. I showed her my unemployment registration with IDES, and she asked what I paid. I told her ($55.00), and she said, " NAAAAAAAAW, here's what you're going to do." She took out a form and said, "you're going to fill this out, and your monthly fee is going down to $19.00."
This past weekend, on the way back from my friend's farm, Farmer Lady, the young man from our permaculture course and I were all talking about this and that. She took us through the campus of Notre Dame (the boy and I weren't impressed; we both felt it looked like a sterile strip mall), and we talked about kids. I mentioned I'd had my tubes tied for my 38th birthday present to myself.
"Wait," said the boy. "How old are you?"
"Wow. I thought you were like, 30. You are so full of life."
I turned to Farmer Lady. "I love this boy."
Oh, and I ate at Cracker Barrel for the first time. Fried Okra. Fresh from the freezer.
And I'm going to have a nice big garden on a south-facing slope on Farmer Lady's land.