The catch-22

Last night after putting $30 worth of gas in my tank and realizing I only had $15 in cash left until God knows when, my mood shifted from fine to terrible. I got home from grocery shopping (Daniel had given me money to go shopping), and Daniel asked what took so long. I had to get gas; apparently so did the rest of Huntington Beach, I said. You should have waited; I was going to fill your gas tank tomorrow, he replied. Yeah, well I needed it tonight, I said in a kind of snarl.

Part of my bad mood I attribute to realizing how little money I had in my wallet; the other part I attribute to the fact that earlier in the day, Daniel had offered to fill my gas tank for me. We drove my car from his place to mine so we could drop his car off at the shop. By the time we got back to Huntington Beach, I really needed to get gas. The $30 worth of gas that I put in my tank didn't even fill my tank.

Daniel's offer to put gas in my tank is like a Catch-22. I really don't have the money to fill my tank. I really wanted Daniel to buy me gas. He sent me grocery shopping at which point I noticed, Damn, I'm really low on gas. The Catch-22 is that I don't want him buying me gas! I do, but I don't. What I really want is my own job. So that I can afford to put gas in my car without a noticeable mood shift from having departed with most of my last $50. I'm lucky he takes care of me; but I don't want him taking care of me. I want to take care of myself. I feel like less of a human being; like I'm sponging off of him; using him. I hate that feeling.

As soon as I got home I dumped the groceries on the counter. He asked if I got a certain item I'd been wanting. I mumbled no, I didn't have enough money. I left him alone in the kitchen and hid out in the office. A few times he walked in to check on me but I didn't want any company. Least of all from Mr. Catch-22 who has no financial strain or worry.

I hid in the office aimlessly job searching and finding nothing. It soured my mood even more. In the kitchen I heard my phone ringing. Like I wanted to talk to anyone in that moment. I ignored my phone. After awhile one of Daniel's dogs stood beside my chair and stretched her little body up and kept putting her paw on my arm. Stop, she was saying. Come join the rest of us in the living room.

So I did. I apologized to Daniel for my bad mood. He said it was OK. We ate dinner. A little while later I grabbed my phone and saw that the phone call from earlier was a strange LA area code phone number. One I didn't recognize. There was also a message. I went back into the office to listen to the message.

Suddenly I shrieked. I popped back out of the office and ran toward the kitchen to find Daniel in a karate-type defensive pose (a reaction to my shrieking). What the hell? he asked.

Aerospace Company S! I shrieked. They called! They have an open position.

Suddenly my bad mood vanished. I was all smiles. The $30 worth of gas I had just spent was long forgotten.

Daniel wasn't quite as excited as I was. I don't think he wants me to get my hopes up. I can see his point.

This morning I returned the phone call to Aerospace Company S. Left a voice message. Now I'm just on the edge of my seat ... waiting for a callback. Crossing my fingers (toes, eyes, and legs).