"While I truly do love emeralds, we could have made it on green glass!"
The above quote (and title of my blog) comes from the film Thoroughly Modern Millie, when a character tells her friend about how she first met her millionaire husband. As a lowly showgirl, she fell in love with a man she thought to be as poor as she, only to discover that his gift of jewelry was the real deal, not just a shiny fake. She married into a life of luxury, even though their love was strong enough to have taken them through a penniless life together.
A piece of smooth, ocean-tumbled glass would be a comforting object to hold. Right now I feel like I'm combing the beach searching for green glass, but all I can find are worthless shards of plastic.
Matt and I uprooted and moved across the state for a job/new start opportunity that proved to be a bust. Our dream of paying off debt and saving for a house has been flung even farther into the future as we postpone loan payments and inch towards penniless-ness yet again. Our lease on a spacious apartment near downtown Austin was barely signed before we had to give it up (we are blessed to currently be sharing space in my family's home). It's been over a month since we've had any sort of income, and it's frightening how fast our remaining resources have disappeared.
It is my desperate plea to be gainfully employed before Thanksgiving. Matt has to go back to school in January, because we cannot push that back any longer. I would love the opportunity to attend grad school sometime before I am old and gray. I would love to own a house before we have children. I would...
But that is looking to the future again, and for right now my gaze needs to be focused firmly in the present, searching for that small piece of glass that means we're going to pull through.
