In the beginning...

     It was last November that I found myself muttering constantly, "I hate my life.  I hate my life...."  I came to realize that I did not, in fact, hate my life, I merely hated various things about my life.  I "hated" my "job".
     For anyone who has done doc review for a living, you know what I am talking about.  It is not an actual "job", it is more of a lifestyle.  Doc review is all temp work and, as a temp, you have no control over whether or not you are working, and sometimes, out of necessity, no control over who you are working for.  From one day to the next, and one week to the next, you have no actual knowledge of whether or not you will have a job, let alone a paycheck.  Because we temp, even if a gig ends, and another begins almost immediately, because of the pay cycles and pay periods for each company, we might go a month between paychecks.
     Some companies offer direct deposit, some companies will only offer live checks, that are passed out at work, and some companies will only mail your live check to the address on your payroll forms.  At that point, you hope and pray you have a great mail person!  My last mailman would ring the bell if I was getting either medications from the VA (Veterans Administration) or anything that looked like a check.  I miss him very much!
     In addition to the "lifestyle" at work, I was having problems at home with my roommates.  For anyone who knows me, and loves me anyways, you know I love to cook.  I take great joy in creating a meal and then watching others enjoy that meal.  Apparently, I was cooking too much and this was causing a problem.  I was told, in no uncertain terms, that I had to cut back on my cooking and I was not allowed to occupy so much of the fridge.  It was at this point that I no longer felt welcome in my own home.  Even though I paid little attention to what was said to me, I just did not feel good about coming "home".
     So, just prior to the onset of holiday baking (and for those of you who have received the holiday baking care package, you KNOW of the magic to which I speak), I decided that I would use up all of my massage hours before, during, and after, each major baking session, so as to stay in the best baking form.  While walking to one of those 2 hour massage sessions, I happened to notice a storefront window for TEFL Academy on Diversey.  The school offered a one month course to certify you to teach English as a Foreign Language.  Hmmmmmm...the die was cast.