drama

I’m not really sure what I meant by the “best possible outcome.” Whatever I meant, I don’t think I got it. I’ve picked up a half-credit Drama class, but I’m still part time. One of very few part-timers. I wish I could process this more professionally, less personally, but I mourn more the loss of my former position—I mourn a sort of displacement from a greater community.

I’ve not yet talked money with the administration. I felt far too sad today to have that conversation. But as one of the seemingly very few people who’ve not received help from FEMA, I definitely have a lack of wiggle-room in the finances department. Right now, in New Orleans, jobs are plentiful in the service industries. I could moonlight at a bar or a restaurant or a coffee shop, but I have to start thinking of my own bigger picture. While I could make do, and possibly even be content, to juggle teaching and moonlighting until January, I just can’t see that as being an option until June. Truth be told, even doing it for the next few months makes me terribly sad. All this time and education and career-building… Do you want a single or a double latte?

And of course, I’m consumed by the fact that my sorrows are so minimal compared to so many others’. That sort of guilt grief or grief guilt that comes from not knowing how to process a setback that pales in comparison to the great losses around me.