This whole raising two kids and working at the same time business has left me little time for anything else (including sleep). Even now, sitting at my desk on a Monday that I don’t have to work, there are a million things I need to do.
And also, I have the plague.
Or a cold.
Feels like the plague.
So, I’m grateful to have a guest post to share with you today.
Emmie Mears is the brain behind Searching for Superwomen, a site I’ve been privileged enough to write for, and an all around wicked cool person. When she offered to write a post perfectly tailored for my neglected blog, how could I resist?
Enjoy the Emmie!
When I was trying to get my blog tour together a couple months ago, I remember getting stuck trying to figure out what to write for you. Your blog is so awesome, and I always love what you post there that I wanted to make sure it was something witty and charming and insightful and special and full of unicorns and are gems of wisdom (ed. note: I’m more of a narwhal person, actually). I sat there staring at the section of my GoogleDoc where I’d written your name, trying to figure out what to write.
Fast forward to the end of my list, and I still hadn’t been able to figure anything out. That week, I was supposed to have a friend coming over on Wednesday. Where I live, they only give out three parking passes to residents, and we have four adult drivers in the house. As the newbie, I have to park about 5-10 minutes away on a residential street. Tuesday night I got home and thought I had a spot, so I parked and walked home.
Wednesday my friend was supposed to come over. The plan was to go get sushi, then to come home and eat it, drink wine, and snuggle. Because sometimes platonic snuggles are really what we all need.
Partway through the day, I got a long text message from a different coworker telling me she’d begged my friend to take her shift that day because no one else would. My friend ended up bailing on me for the day, which, after a week of planning was horribly depressing.
In a fit of sparks and fizz, I decided that by gods, I’d go get sushi anyway. I tromped out of my house around four in the afternoon and walked to my car.
When I got there, I saw something on the windshield.
A bunch of somethings.
I had three tickets. Each for $60 a pop. I looked through them, and they’d been issued 7 hours apart. I looked at where I was parked, and the signs were confusing. One of the tickets was for parking too close to a driveway, which I looked and wasn’t, but the ticket existed anyway. I’m off every Wednesday and Thursday and almost always just stay home those days. The moment I saw those tickets and after a quick bit of multiplication, I realized that if I hadn’t left the house, I would have come back Friday morning to either about $600 worth of tickets — or no car.
I got in my car and drove to pick up my sushi, which cost me about $30. I paid a bit wide-eyed, and when the woman ringing me up asked me how I was, I looked her right in the eye and waggled my bag.
“This sushi saved me about $500,” I told her.
This summer has been one of upheaval. I’ve separated from my husband. I moved across town with my two cats. I have roommates again. I now have a thirty minute commute instead of a seven minute one. I’m dealing with a lot of financial fallout from my separation and impending divorce, and summer is the slowest time of year in my business.
That day I was so looking forward to seeing my friend and spending some quality time with her. But if she’d come over, we would have taken her car to go get sushi. We would have driven right past the street where my car was parked without looking closer at it. I wouldn’t have seen the tickets, nor would I have known about them until I walked to my car two days later. Had I decided to stay home and not get sushi, I would have had the same outcome.
While paying $30-some for sushi just for me is a lot, it pales in comparison to how much I would have had to pay without it.
And when I look at the rest of my life in that context right now, the rough patch of this year and the hard decisions that have been made, sure, they have a price. But they’re the $30 in the face of $800. Some pain and upheaval now is better than waiting three years, five years, ten years for that interest to compound and blow up in my face.
In the end, maybe this sushi is actually priceless. I don’t want to know what would have happened without it.
Emmie Mears was born in Austin, Texas, where the Lone Star state promptly spat her out at the tender age of three months. After a childhood spent mostly in Alaska, Oregon, and Montana, she became a proper vagabond and spent most of her time at university devising ways to leave the country.
Except for an ill-fated space opera she attempted at age nine, most of Emmie’s childhood was spent reading books instead of writing them. Growing up she yearned to see girls in books doing awesome things, and struggled to find stories in her beloved fantasy genre that showed female heroes saving people and hunting things. Mid-way through high school, she decided the best way to see those stories was to write them herself. She now scribbles her way through the fantasy genre, most loving to pen stories about flawed characters and gritty situations lightened with the occasional quirky humor.
Emmie now lives in her eighth US state, still yearning for a return to Scotland. She inhabits a cozy domicile outside DC with two felines who think they’re lions and tigers.
THE MASKED SONGBIRD
Mildly hapless Edinburgh accountant Gwenllian Maule is surviving. She’s got a boyfriend, a rescued pet bird and a flatmate to share rent. Gwen’s biggest challenges: stretching her last twenty quid until payday and not antagonizing her terrifying boss.
Then Gwen mistakenly drinks a mysterious beverage that gives her heightened senses, accelerated healing powers and astonishing strength. All of which come in handy the night she rescues her activist neighbour from a beat-down by political thugs.
Now Gwen must figure out what else the serum has done to her body, who else is interested and how her boss is involved. Finally—and most mysteriously—she must uncover how this whole debacle is connected to the looming referendum on Scottish independence.
Gwen’s hunt for answers will test her superpowers and endanger her family, her friends—even her country.
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