All is well in the agent household. Despite a random rash on Agent Offspring #1’s body (that we can’t find the cause of yet), all of us are long over our illness and back to normal energy levels.For the last five months our finances have been stronger than ever. There has always been money in the bank one way or another. We can’t go out and buy a new mini-van or anything, but we’ve always got money to pay whatever bill is due and buy groceries and etc.
Agent Wife began watching two little boys in January for 3 days a week. We actually have a small consistent monthly pay.
This is a far cry from a year ago when we got down to our last $17 bucks and no hope in sight. All we had was our communications to the CEO. He always provided at precise moments back then.
But these days, every time I turn around someone is offering me a handy-man job, temp job, or music gig. Or better yet, in true Uncle George form, some random anonymous envelope of cash gets mailed to me. So I pray “where is this money to go?”, because for once we have our needs met abundantly. Sometimes I hear small instructions, but nothing grand that I know of. Thank you CEO.
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In the temp job vein, I recently began working for the nurse’s husband the chef, who really needs his own agent-blog if you ask me. He has much more to say in the mission of Jesus vs. Sunday social club arena than I do. If you can believe that.
It’s a good gig. And the chef is deserving of the coveted agent b Employer Spotlight award solely based on my being supplied with good beer while I work. That may put him at first place indefinately.
It’s a high-end catering gig that puts me within the bowels of wealth within this West Texas region. The upper-class environment is not foreign to me as I’ve teetered on its edge due to many music gigs I play dating back to gigging in the brass section of the local philharmonic years ago. And I've had a few social acquaintances in that realm.
But from a food-service angle within the wealthy class’s private lairs, I’m receiving viewpoints that I haven’t been able to process yet. Maybe some other day.
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There is a new “worker” sharing the migrant worker seat with me at Son & Dad Tree Service, Inc. Young Buck is just that: a 20-something college grad student who was recently married and has much energy. Finally, big pruning jobs that would take me and the two old men all morning now only take a couple of hours. And I don’t mind losing an hour or so of pay since it saves my energy level and sanity.
Nothing is for sure, but I see the end of my days with Son & Dad in sight. I just observed my one-year anniversary with this employment and who knows, maybe I’ll be there another 12 months (PLEASE CEO...NOOOO!). Something tells me my days as Pruning Boy are numbered. I don’t know how big or small that number is. Nor am I ready to explain my vagueness on the subject.
But it’s comforting to know that a replacement for me is already in place, should the need be.
1 comment:
I love stuff like this. It is so obvious to me, B, that His hand is all over you and yours! I cannot wait to see what unfolds. For everyone.
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