The Last Egg

I am really good at stretching a dollar, feeding multitudes on minimal provisions and surviving less than best circumstances. In the 50+ years I have been on earth, I have had to learn and exercise these hard earned skills many times.

Growing up with grandparents who endured “The Great Depression” — I learned from childhood to be a food hoarder. My pantry (until now) resembled a neighborhood grocery store. I have been able to pick and choose what I want to eat and make gourmet meals from scratch.  I can cook on an outdoor fire and produce magical menus from mere scraps. I lived through a massive hurricane and never missed a meal.

I am therefore without words in trying to communicate what it means to be down to my last egg. At long last, I am experiencing the day I unconsciously prepared for all my life but never really thought would come.

Being more than adept than most at surviving, I know for a fact that the current depression we are continuously told is not happening is an absolute truth. It IS happening… to me and most of the people I know. We are, collectively, out of jobs, out of money, out of resources and soon to be out of hope.

So, in spite of my skills and creativity, here I am — looking at my last egg.

I am holding it in my hand, turning it around this way and that, marveling at its incredible symmetry and wondering what I should do with it.

Should I make a one-egg omelet? Should I boil it and eat it whole? Should I combine it with the last of my flour and sugar and make a hoecake? Should I hold onto it in the hope that I will have the money to buy it some companions?

What are we supposed to do when there is no money, no way to pay rent, no way to go to the grocery store and buy what’s there? Do we blow our brains out? Blow somebody else’s brains out? Lay down, accept our fate and die?

I can’t answer those questions just now. I guess it just depends on how bad it gets. Fortunately, I am not at that desperate a juncture. I am no where near blowing anyone’s brains out (I hope) just yet.

But I am am still wondering: What in the world should I do with my last egg?

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2 Comments

  1. Kevin Walker said,

    30 June 2010 at 8:56 pm

    Sharon:

    I totally feel you! This is the brokest I have ever been in MY LIFE! Thank God my wife teaches and hasn’t kicked me out of the house, yet. Keep the faith and hold on, don’t be afraid to ask for help either when you need it.

  2. Edie Harris said,

    29 June 2010 at 12:27 am

    You are not by yourself, girlfriend. Trust me when I say I understand. If I was anywhere near you, I’d bring over my 6 eggs and we’d have a fricking banquet. Whatever you do, don’t drop it.


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