As of this morning, I am officially out of high-quality, watermarked resume paper. I’ve just sent off another round of curricula vitae and cover letters for adjunct teaching positions for the fall semester. My goal is to blanket the New York City metropolitan area with my resume, and I have now contacted every university and community college within a twenty mile radius of Bayonne. Most of these schools want you to email all your info to their human resources department, which will deliver your CV and cover letter to the appropriate person, but I’ve been mailing hard copies of everything to department chairs as well. I’ve sent too many resumes to human resources departments as of late and never heard a thing, which makes me wonder if anyone is actually looking at my credentials. Keep your fingers crossed for me. If I can acquire enough classes this fall, say four of five composition courses, I could probably make ends meet. After all, we live way out in the boonies of New Jersey where the cost of living is a lot cheaper.
All this staying home has caused me to get to know my neighbors a little mor. The man who used to sit on his front stoop all summer with classic rock blaring from his apartment, turns out to be a super nice guy, who fixes all the neighborhood cars in his spare time and always makes a point to chat about how big Mr. S is getting. There’s also his girlfriend, Leela who has a sweet, but aging chow named China for whom she has purchased an old Radio Flyer so she can wheel China around this summer. The poor dog’s hips are giving out. And I’ve not just gotten to know my neighbors but the crossing guards as well, and some of the neighborhood regulars, like the man who lives around the corner and always comments on my Converse high tops or the clerks at CVS and Rite Aid who’ve started telling me about the dramas in their lives. I’ve also gotten to know the cashiers at Shop Rite, which is sadly closing until Christmas to make way for a bigger, better Shop Rite, and although we definitely need a bigger, better Shop Rite, this means I’ll either have to walk two miles or take a train to the nearest grocery store. I love walking, but in the winter when it’s windy and snowy, it’s kind of a pain. All this is to say, I’ve finally gotten to love Bayonne. It’s not as picturesque as Tennessee, but the people here are just as friendly. I don’t understand how the North has the rude rep it has. We’ve yet to encounter a single rude person up here.
Mr. T is in class right now, but will be home in time for dinner. And since I’ve become a sort of housewife lately, albeit not the tidiest housewife, I’ve got to come up with something yummy and nutritious (as Mr. S likes to say) for dinner tonight. I’m thinking I’ll fix my famous lentil rice stew, which is always a big hit even though we eat it at least once a week.
Before I sign off, I need to tell you that Mr. S has acquired a piggy bank. Actually we’ve had it forever, but he’s just now noticed it. He loves to put quarters in the slot on the top and then empty them all out onto the floor. He will do this half the day, if we let him. But since we must supervise him with quarters, we only let him play with it every once in awhile. Anyway, instead of calling it a piggy bank, he calls it a guinea pig. Just thought y’all needed to know that.