Thank you for your much needed sympathy

Today I had to call the bank because Tim and I completely forgot about this one outgoing check we had written and overdrafted our account. This is really rare, don't worry Mom. Thanks to my mom I have learned the fine art of getting out of late fees, overdraft fees, early cancellation fees, and so on, so now we don't have to pay Wells Fargo $105 for our mistake. (Thank you, Mom!)

We thought we had already set up overdraft protection but hadn't, so I signed up for a credit card to use for that purpose. To do this the nice banker lady had to ask me about my employer, my occupation, and my gross monthly pay. She had to ask me twice about my gross monthly pay ("And is that weekly? Biweekly?") because I think she was a little shocked about what I make before taxes are taken out. I used to be shocked. I used to think, "I made more with my Bachelor's degree." Now I just don't care. I have a job, and it stresses me out less than my last job, and I work with heroes. Hah! I tried to explain to her though, "I'm in a fellowship so they don't pay me very much." She acted as though this explained everything, but let's face it, most people have no idea what a fellowship is.

Then she asked me how long I had been at this occupation. This required some thought. I worked before with my Bachelor's degree, but I guess technically I've only been able to call myself a "Social Worker" since getting my Master's - which has been about a year. She then asked me, "Do you like that job? It just seems so stressful!" "Yes, I do like my job, and yes, it is stressful." It felt nice to get some pity this morning as I sat in my sad, windowless office, with ugly flourescent lighting, and even uglier "scenic country" paintings on the wall. It felt especially nice because I've been wearing my full winter coat in here all day, since this room also used to be a closet and doesn't have a heating vent. And it's 6 degrees outside.