There are still two months to go before my department shuts down, or 47 more business days. It is funny how two months seems like a long time, but 47 days seems like nothing. In fact, thinking about 47 days makes me panic a little. I have more than 47 tasks to complete. There are 100 tasks on my checklist. Not that I need to do them all myself. Many are delegated. But I still have to ensure they get done. And I am not as good at delegating as I am at doing.
Not everyone in my home shares my excitement. I am learning that some people, no matter how hard they try, worry. Even those that have lived for years with the threat of joblessness continue to fret. My husband is one of these. He worked for TWA for years, and now for American Airlines. He endured bankruptcy and an uncounted number of layoffs. He has never learned to say "whatever". For as long as we have been married (11 years), every day has been a day he could come home without a job. But I never worried. Never did I stew over being able to keep vehicles or pay the light bills.
Not that it didn't concern me. But what good would worrying do? Will worrying change the business decision putting me out of a job, or change current economic conditions? No. So, if I have to cut my grocery budget, I can find more ways to dress up less expensive cuts of meat. And, if incoming funds won't cover cable, I can live watching 4, 5, 9, 38, 41 and 62. That is still more choices than I had as a teenager. Que sera sera.
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