What Work Ethic?

Hello. I was home all alone today, because even Iz has a part time job right now. It's actually a pretty sweet deal: she tests hardware products at the company where our dad works for 8 hours a day and gets paid $12/hour. I had the same job for a few summers in high school; it's as boring as it sounds but the pay is relatively decent. And plus our dad buys lunch.

So even though I worked all summer I haven't saved up much, thanks to rent and food (my aversion to cooking is really very financially crippling) and little side trips to Vegas. For a while I considered asking my dad if he could get me a few hours in the lab alongside my sister, but two things changed my mind.

The first was my mom telling me that she thinks the lab manager would have to cut another temp's hours in order to create the extra position for me. I may be poor but I am not poor enough to have to snipe jobs away from other, potentially poorer workers. I have more integrity than that. Plus it would be easier to just steal from orphans.

The second was that, if you recall, I was kind of hungover the day I got home, which would explain why I slept for like seven hours from mid-afternoon to early evening. By the time I dragged myself out of bed to go rummage in the fridge (I'm a lovely, attractive human being, I know), my mom had already been wondering what was wrong with me for a good half hour.

"You're so tired," she said, hovering over me while I searched for juice (in vain, apparently no one in my family believes in beverages because I always come home to a fridge full of water and despair). "Working full time in LA must have exhausted you. You can rest for the next three weeks. No need to work anymore."

Her tone brooked no argument and I was hardly in the condition for a show down.
"Sure," I said, giving up both my desire to quench my thirst and any dreams of augmenting my now-nonexistent income. "Can we get juice?"

Which is why I felt very unproductive a few hours ago lying on my yoga mat while the instructor crooned, "Now just relax.. let go of all the stress of the day.. all the busyness of the world... our worlds are so hectic, just take this time for yourself.." And then I felt kind of like an imposter, because while all the other people around me were trying to loosen up after a day at the office and emptying their minds and letting in light and energy and compassion or whatever, I was actually kind of annoyed because honestly? Yoga was the most stress I was going through that day. Not that it was actually stressful, but it's hard to do anything with less stress when what you've done all day is alternately eat candy, watch tv and marvel at the wonders of memory foam. And then the instructor said something about taking a walk down your throat until you reach a private beach (seriously) and it was so disturbing that I blocked out her voice entirely and started thinking about school and and then I got kind of stressed out. And my back hurt. So I think yoga was bad for me.

In conclusion, I need a job, my house needs juice, and my yoga instructor needs some better 'relaxing' imagery.