Near the end of last year, my employer of four years announced that he was selling the remainder of the lease to a local competitor. He assured us that we all had jobs at our current hourly rates if we chose to work for this new employer, something he worked into the transaction due to the upcoming holiday season.
In a way, the change in employment was incredibly well-timed for me: I was coming up on my last semester of college (one I knew would require a large workload) and had been working a minimum of 50 hours per week. What I hadn't considered was how reckless I had become with my finances in the last few months with my surplus income from so much overtime. Luckily I had still budgeted the funds for the final semester's tuition, but I hadn't quite realized the adjustment to the necessary cut in hours would affect me.
By the end of the first month of my semester, I had eaten away at all but my emergency savings. I had to strap down. I stopped eating out completely, would forego expensive outings with friends (movies, barhopping), and even tried my best to take to recreation reading as much as I could as a way of curbing electricity consumption.
All these changes came together to make a noticeable impact. Because I was no longer eating out so often (including food I would make for myself working 12 hours in a kitchen), cut back on my drinking, and still exercising regularly, I started to drop weight. The transition wasn't rapid or unhealthy, but as someone who has spent a majority of their life hoovering near obese it was apparent fairly early.
Of course with all the things that happen day-to-day, I wasn't the best about visiting family. By the time my grandfather's birthday rolled around in February I hadn't seen my family in nearly two months. My grandmother was quick to notice that I "looked like I'd lost quite a bit of weight" (I was down 20 pounds at this point) and wanted to know if I'd been going to the gym more than I had been.
"No," I tell her, "I'm just broke." The look on her face told me I'd made a grave error in my explanation. "Since I started my new job I've been working less, so I don't eat out as often. I make most of my meals at home. Spicy tuna and cottage cheese is one of my go-to's. It's amazing how much working out makes a difference when you don't eat so terribly."
I was trying everything to reassure her but she just kept that look of worry in eyes. See, my grandmother is one of six and the child of German immigrants. Her father died shortly after she was born and her mother worked to support all of them. She still retained a lot of her childhood habits as a way of avoiding those concerns for her own family (my grandfather on the other hand has taken on the "if I don't spend my money the kids will" mindset in his later years). My mom finally got involved to clarify the joke of it and seemed to break the concern for the time being.
Skip forward to our leaving at Easter, however, and I get pulled aside. She was trying to stuff a 100 into my hand with the insistence that I get myself something to eat. At first I try to shake it off saying, "grandma just because it turns out I have cheek bones doesn't mean I'm starving!" No use. I think maybe if I tell my grandfather she's giving me an advance on inheritance she'll let it go, but I couldn't do that to her. After a quick Sherlock-esque rundown of possibilities I give in.
So now I'm left wondering...how do I get her back?
April 14, 2018 at 01:18PM
