Monday, the Man Who Is Away was in an accident. He wasn’t hurt, but it was a serious accident. He was pretty shaken by it, though he had calmed greatly by the time I saw him after work (an almost unheard-of occurrence with our current schedules and the fact that he's usually away - hence, the moniker). The woman who caused it was flying down the wrong side of the highway, and she was taken to the hospital by helicopter.

This week, I am also "on review" at work, which I've been told is a training tool rather than a way to fire us. However, the fact is also that if I don't raise a certain amount by the end of this week, I'm out. I persevered after a rough start Monday night, and did pretty well. Tonight, though... well, tonight threw a monkey wrench the size of Gibraltar in the whole thing. Tonight was the lowest night, fundraising-wise, that I can recall… ever. Since I started this job. It was atrocious. It was embarrassing. It introduced a deficit I've got two days to make up. And in the past few weeks, I’ve had more low nights similar to (but not quite as bad as) this one – more of them, so close together, than in the eight months I’ve been doing this work. And, since my pay is based solely on my fundraising, real injury is added to insult.

There is more to my present state of mind, state of contempating quitting and seizing an opportunity a friend has offered, even if I make up that deficit in the next couple of days. There are months and months of fifty-plus-hour weeks; of long, tough days where I struggled and realized that, for all my hard work, I had made less than minimum wage for that day; of not talking to the Man Who Is Away for several days at a time because of our opposite schedules and both of our long days; of sitting on curbsides, trying not to cry (or crying) from the stress of my job, from having more than my fill of people feeding me apathy, excuses, bullshit, and flat-out lies (on the positive side, I've learned how to tell when strangers are lying to me, for the most part) -- and being ready to throw up from disgust at it. (And, what can I say, sometimes jerks are drawn to one another by some invisible force.) Of course, there are also the positive things, but largely, I've gained the skills I wished to develop through this -- I did months ago, really... perhaps it is time to move on....

So, here is the picture of where I've been tonight, cooking dinner late and eating late, mentally crinkling (not quite crunching) a few numbers to the crackle of chicken frying, thinking I could make it work, this other job. Another something completely different to add to my ever-diversifying list of jobs; I feel a little like Jack London in considering it. But my current work was never something I intended to make a career of, either. The potential new job would be only part-time for now, but could become full time in a couple months, and even so, it would be just enough to cover necessities. Something about how horrible the people were tonight also makes working alone on a deserted campus sound wonderful. Give me ghosts; I'm getting weary of the living.