This week, I tried several lessons that sucked. If I finish the day without any kids talking about how bored they are, then I consider it a good day. Tomorrow, I plan to finish a lesson that I started on Thursday, which could either do very well or suck like a … well, it will suck a lot.
I’m not really looking forward to this next week of lessons; I have never taught math before, never been a disciplinarian before, and definitely never had my workday depend on how much I can be a hard-ass before.
This weekend, the wife and I went to Las Vegas to see family for Easter. We went to the strip, gambled, and got free drinks for the first time. The wife, of course, found a game without cards or any gambling terms and loved it.
Picture the Wheel of Fortune spinner on its side with different numbers. In a great idea, the number appears fewer times than its payout, but the numbers correlate to their payout. For example, betting on a 5 will pay 5 to 1, betting on a 20 will pay 20 to 1, but the 20’s appear 1 in 50 on the wheel, the 5’s appear 1 in 8 times on the wheel. If you follow that, you can see that if you play long enough, you will lose money.
Unfortunately for us, the wife won $10 right away and, squealing, continued to bet until her $20 limit was depleted. I played penny video poker for the most part (because it costs me only 4 cents while I’m waiting for a free drink), though I did venture to a blackjack table to lose one $15 hand in about 6 seconds. The dealer showed a 2 and I had 13, the odds were in my favor that she wouldn’t get 19. We left without winning anything, but losing less than we budgeted. Yes, we budgeted before going into the casino.
Why can’t I get paid to make smart decisions in the casino?
Today, we went to a Lutheran church with piss-poor drums and a cheap Merlot used as the blood of Christ. I was (in my head and to the wife) critical and condescending about the whimsical, muddled theology and stand-up, sit-down aerobics service, but even as I made fun of the way that this community experienced God, I was kicking myself in the ass for thinking that way. It is much easier to be cynical than to make my faith my own.
Why can’t I get paid to constantly critique everything?
After church, we went home and had a light lunch where I showed my father-in-law how to fix is iPod. He couldn’t get iTunes to sync and had deleted a bunch of stuff. When he first got his computer, I went through it and changed defaults so that it would be easier to use. When his wife, my mother-in-law, got a digital camera, she took it out of the box to look at, then sealed it back up until I could come over. “I don’t want to touch it until he can show me what to do.”
Why can’t I get paid to be a technology consultant?
About an hour ago, I went back out to the garage to put the tubes back into Gramma (in-law)’s old McIntosh stereo system. The plan was to get the tubes checked out and fix the ones that need it, then I realized that we didn’t try to even turn it on first. Turns out that Grandpa had some trouble with the record player and declared the whole thing broken. Since he passed away, we were free to see if it works. (He was a bit stubborn and insisted that it was broken.)
Gramma was nearly moved to tears when we talked about giving me the old stereo. When I got it working, she was so excited. It felt good to power up the old tubes and play big band swing in the garage. Gramma told me about how she used to make canolis for Tony Bennett and she used to go see the big band shows in Vegas.
Why can’t I get paid to fix stuff for old ladies?
My job is out there, and I’m probably 20 years away from finding it. If anybody knows where I can find a job fixing stuff for people who don’t know much about it, let me know.
Especially if it provides healthcare.