At the Holocaust Museum I had two co-workers who were supervisory and semi-supervisory who played little games that can best be called, "worst case scenario". It fell under the relm of imagine the exhibit area is packed and some kid throws up, what do you do? And then they go about talking out how they'd approach the problem, pitfalls in that strategy, etc. It would stay in their area of responsiblity and possible likihood.
Everyso often I play the game in my own head. I shared one scenario with the Help. I thought what would happen if I lost my job. Well I'd seek work for 6 months. After 6 months I'd put the house on the market and move my butt back to Florida, where the cost of living is cheaper. Oh, and where I own a house. I'd move in with my sister and take over my youngest niece's room. Either she'd move out into the living room or move in her sister's room, which I already know would cause many problems. But hey, it builds character.
In Florida I would re-learn how to drive a backhoe help daddy in his business. Or I'd try to get my old cashier's job back at the Winn-Dixie. Then figure out how to restart my career and spend a lot of time applying for everything at the University of Florida or SFCC (the community college in Gainesville).
The Help, asked why would I go back to Florida? Why not? I mentioned I would have the support of my family. He pointed out that I support them. Yes, but they (with the exception of my sister) aren't that dependent on what I've funneled to them.
Going back to Florida has always been the plan when I thought I would not cut it. I really like DC and I have a few relatives here, and it is the best area for my particular field. But if I'm going to be poor and broke anywhere I'd rather be poor and broke in Florida.
No comments:
Post a Comment