After multiple attempts at the repair shop/oil change place, my heat is finally working. They had to run water through my heater coil to unblock it and now my engine is running hot enough to put heat into the car. It was awesome. I had to take my coat off in the car when it was 30 degrees outside. I cannot remember the last time that happened. I need new tires though. Badly!
Jacob is feeling better, I think. He's coughing a lot less but he still seems to think that he's owed a boob a lot more now. Cutting him off is so hard. It's so easy to let him nurse, especially early in the morning when we both need sleep but he needs to nurse himself to doze again. I need to start making him lay with me to fall asleep instead of nurse him in the rocker. I also need to get him to sleep through the night but that's a story for another time.
I'm applying for food stamps and the process is making me want to stab someone. There was a print out in the cubicle of the woman who entered my information that said "I ask you questions and enter them into a computer. Then the computer, not I, decides if you receive benefits or not based on your answers." So I know it's not her fault that I have to submit my bank statement with my full name and account number on it, as well as the past thirty days of transactions, and both full pages of my savings account. But damn if I don't hate her for this bullshit. It's practically a full time job just trying to apply for grocery money. And they want me to be looking for a job? Actually, the substitute application is another one of those tedious packets of nonsense for a glorified babysitter. No one needs a college degree to watch over a bunch of thirteen year olds. They need sticks and some duct tape. That is all.
(omg, I kid!) (Anyone who can deal with pre-teens has my undying admiration. I subbed for an 8th grade class and I caught at least one punk trying to look up my dress. No thank you.)
If only I could have stayed in New Mexico and gotten a position at the Freshman school there. They would have let me teach and go back to school within three years, I'm sure of it. Sometimes I still think about going back there but the barren wasteland of Hobbs is a huge deterrent. No Target for over an hour? No nice places to eat, shop, or play? No friends or family? The stink of oil country? I'm not sure a job is worth that yet.