I have received a job offer, and it is everything I hoped for. It’s not my dream job, as such…that would involve my writing taking off and me being able to make a comfortable – to – opulent living from that. But I’m back in the land of benefits, I’m making more money than I ever have before, and I’m working banker’s hours to do it.
(You know, an odd and suspicious thought just occurred to me: I wonder if paralegals are like waiters, in that their bosses pay less than they otherwise would on the assumption that the employee will make up the difference in tips – or in the paralegal’s case, overtime.)
This is going to solve so many problems for me. The money has been going out faster than it’s been coming in over the past six months or so, and while I’ve had health insurance coverage since I signed on at the New York exchange, I haven’t wanted to take the time off to actually visit a doctor. I can get a checkup for the first time in two years now, a dental checkup for the first time in four. I can get new glasses.
But I need to remember this feeling, going forward. The relief. The feeling that I can finally stop being afraid. I need to remember that there are a lot of people out there who are still living in fear much worse than I ever experienced.
I need to remember that I didn’t get this job because I’m better or more deserving than those who have worse, or none. Too many people start to believe that, once they get above the paycheck-to-paycheck scrabbling, and I don’t want to be one of them. I worked long and hard, it’s true, but I also benefited from a thousand tiny and not-so-tiny advantages, culminating in one huge stroke of luck. My parents say I should thank God; maybe they’re right. Still, regardless of whether the Creator Of All Things actually arranged some of those things to get me a job (surely there are more deserving people out there), I feel a responsibility to take this good fortune and do a bit of good with it. But the first step is to avoid becoming part of the problem.