Confessions of a Former White Trash Teacher

Sorry to anyone who reads this and is offended at my lack of PC-ness. Sorry to my Momma who HATES it when I refer to myself that way & to anyone who doesn’t know me well enough to have heard my great “white trash teacher” story, but this one is just a silly nothing for me today. :)

The power just went out here for some as yet, unknown reason. Since I really should be working on schoolwork and being productive, but REALLY don’t want to, I decided to jot this down just to amuse myself.

Every once in a while the power goes out here. It doesn’t take much in good ol’ Greensboro, NC, for the power to go out. I don’t know what would happen if there ever were a real storm here, seriously. I try not to be a “weather snob” as we five Thomases have come to call it, but there is not much for weather down here except for heat in the summer. :) If you get a gust of wind, a clap of thunder, and two raindrops, people here think there is a tornado outside your door and you should go hide in the bathtub. (Just kidding to my southern friends, just kidding) And the power, seriously, does go out here anytime there is much wind at all or if we get a heavy downpour, but the power usually comes back on pretty quickly so no complaining here.

But I digress. I’m just wondering how far away from my “white trash teacher” days, as I call them, do I have to get before the first thoughts in my head when the power or water or heat goes out quit being, “Did I pay that bill? I know I paid that bill on time. Why did they shut us off?” Seriously, that is always the first thing that comes to my brain, even though those days are long gone and I pay the bills routinely on the first day of each month almost religiously. It’s funny how hard times, experiences, life, things just frame who you are as a person. I mean, here I am a school teacher, a mom of three almost grown kids, a secure in the middle class person, a responsible citizen who always pays her bills (even when I don’t always have the money, God helps me find a way), and yet those days of being poor and going without are just a part of who I am, and I’m guessing they always will be. Maybe that’s not so bad; it’s just kind of funny how that’s there.Wonder how many other confessions I might make if I thought about this very deeply, but then as I always say (much to the aggravation of my sister I might add), I’m not a very deep thinker. So I’ll leave that to her, crack wise about my poor days, and always wonder “Hmmm, didn’t I pay the power bill?” when the lights go out. :)