The next day, after I’d made sure the girls got onto the bus and then checked their bedroom for contraband, I woke Jas so she could track down a job lead. Usually, if I needed to wake her early, I would blast Barry Manilow through her computer speakers until she woke up. But today, all I had to do was have my demon ask her. Jas got up without screaming, swearing or throwing her shoes at my head. Then she showered, dressed and left. She even thanked me for getting her the interview. Life was good. It was time to consider the washing machine problem. Over the past few days, I’d been hand-washing bras and panties to keep us in clean underwear, but things were reaching a critical level. We’d re-used our bath towels so often that they all smelled of mildew, and Grace had now worn the same pair of jeans three days in a row. Something had to be done. I loathed the idea of dragging all of our dirty laundry to the Laundromat and back, but I still didn’t have the money for a new washing machine. Although I’d been compulsively checking the substitute teachers’ website hoping to find an available spot, nothing had turned up. Not a single teacher in any of the local districts was out sick or on leave. My cash resources were drying up at a frightening rate. In fact, I was getting so desperate that I’d filled out a few on-line applications to places like Wal-Mart and Sears.
