The Jobless Goddess

            There’s a sermon here somewhere. What to be thankful for? Everything, pretty much. For children who are alive and body parts that still work.             Let’s see. I’m living and breathing. My kids and husband are doing the same. I have memories that keep me happy and thinking. I have siblings who keep me guessing and engaged.             I have a roof over my head and food in my cupboards.             There are people right here in my town who I know have neither. They keep me hoping and dreaming.             I’ve got enough food in my pantry right now to feed twenty people tomorrow. The only problem being that I don’t have twenty people coming.        ...

            Seriously, I just realized earlier today that I wrote an entire blog talking about how I’m 53. I’m 54. How do you spell denial?             Personally, I love aging. I was never a hot chick in a bikini anyway so I don’t really know what it’s like to feel devastated now that my breasts touch my belly button. They were halfway there when I was nine.             Maybe I just forgot that I’m 54. God knows I forget a whole lot of other stuff. This all comes to the forefront because I’ve recently watched that Still Alice movie. I’ve always liked Julienne Moore because she’s not your usual cleavage actress. But in Still Alice she really gets to me. She’s got the familial Alzheimer’s and it ain’t pretty. God love her for playing that part and at least bringing a discussion to the table.     ...

            Well, still jobless. Big surprise. I’m 53 years old and apparently my skill set looks a lot better on a 25 year old.             Nothing new there. A lot of things look better on a 25 year old.             The thing is that I feel like a 53 year old offers more stability than a young ‘un. It’s not like I’m going to throw my hands up in the air any time soon and declare, “I’m outta here!”             I’m more likely to ask, “Do you have a retirement plan or a 401K?” or “Is there any way I could work here until I’m 82? Because that’s about when I could afford to leave. “             I am not bashing young people. In fact, I wish I were one. They have options and they can walk away from a crappy off...