"The Worm Has Turned"

So says M, in his usual way of reversal, describing a growing happy time for us with a slimy, if necessary, creature.

I think back to 50 weeks ago, our Hebdomas Horribilis, when M was laid off, then spent time in the hospital, and I was in a car accident. Yesterday was a worm of a very different color, or stripe, or whatever the term would be. Yesterday was payday, and the difference in my check has given me a huge sense of relief--I can make all the ends meet by myself now. Which was the determining factor for me when M called me that afternoon to say that a friend who had been teaching in the paralegal program had been offered a job at a law firm. M's contact at the program had asked him to start teaching again. On Monday. Only thirty hours a week, so less pay than his Yellow Pages sales job…but in the balance, more time for him to study, and most swayingly, a job he actually likes rather than something he has to get through five days a week. So I was able to be very enthusiastic about the sudden change rather than tense.

So life is suddenly much shinier and brighter. Still busy, but better. So much better that we felt like we had time to clean the bathrooms this morning rather than run off to the library for the day, and plan a trip to his mom's in SoCal at Xmas, maybe taking an extra day or two for ourselves on the way. And yes, in my little pea brain, the debts are paid, the house has 750 new square feet, M's driving a brand new truck and I'm sporting a big fat rock, all in the space of 24 hours. I need to remember to take it one dollar at a time…

*****

And this turned worm has also made me wonder about prayer. I've been quite grumpy about God lately. Well, not so much God, but the people who claim affiliation with Him. I'm looking for a scrap of proof of holy existence, and the more I look, the more convinced I am that He's just not an appropriate part of my life. And prayer--a hopeless act, employed by the gullible, selfish, and/or lazy. Particularly after that study which showed that people who knew that people were praying for them took longer to recover after surgery than those who didn't know or who weren't prayed for at all. And also after listening to/reading interviews with Richard Dawkins.

But…a couple of months ago, Rob wrote this mantra for me in a horoscope:

Because I am shrewd, analytical, practical, attentive, and strategic, I possess all the necessary qualities to become wealthier. I am a money magnet. Money is my servant. O monnee gimmee summ.

I typed it up and taped it to my computer monitor and recited it five times a day for many, many weeks, as he advised. And while I don't quite yet believe that money is my servant (I better keep chanting, huh?), it seemed to have worked, doesn't it?

So perhaps prayer isn't such a useless exercise, I'm thinking now, if prayer became more akin to positive thinking, more about self esteem and right action. Or if prayer could be more actionable or specific than "Please heal little Tommy." I noticed that as I muttered my little chant, I found myself thinking, "Hey, I really am a pretty attentive, strategic gal." Something for me to think more about.