Thursday afternoon, while standing in line to buy groceries at a Kroger, I got the text message that school was cancelled at Allen ISD for a week after Spring Break. I started having a panic attack. Not metaphorically, either, shortness of breath, sweating, racing pulse, a sense that the air was closing in around me, the knowledge that literally everything is outside of my control. I managed to keep it mostly together until we had paid for everything and loaded up the car. When my Fiancé returned the cart to the corral, I got into the car and let it loose. I couldn’t stop crying. It took most of the car ride home and some very deep breathing to pull myself together.

Friday, I spent the day trying to figure out what in the world I can do to salvage even a small part of my income. Fielded phone calls from friends all asking the same thing, “are you going to be okay?” and giving the same ominous “I don’t know yet” in response. After some deliberation, and discussing with a friend who also happens to teach in my district, I decided to move lessons online and teach via Skype and Facetime. I even offered to let students who did not travel over break come to my home for lessons. One family is bringing both their students to my apartment on Sunday afternoon, another has opted for a Skype lesson, and two have asked for their money back. Out of fifty kids, that’s only five accounted for. Lesson income is looking bleak indeed, and I am seriously considering whether or not I should return to the school district next year to teach. I only make money when the kids are in school anyway, so realistically I only have income for nine months out of the year. With all of the crap that’s happened this year, that will end up being closer to eight. I minored in Communication Studies, I type 50 wpm, I have years of experience in face to face interactions, and I’m good at apologizing for things that aren’t my fault, so if you have a job opening, let me know.

The only tiny ray of hope here is my church gig. Shortly after I received the notice that Allen had cancelled school, I got the notification that the Methodist church where I work as a paid singer had cancelled all events until March 21^st. I make $150 each week singing in the choir at First United Methodist. This is my emergency cushion, ringing in at $600/month. If I can come up with $100 on top of that, I have enough to cover rent, so the news that services and rehearsal were cancelled was horrible. I spent a good part of the morning in shock.

I finally messaged some of the other section leaders (there are eight of us in total) and asked if they thought we could still sing. Every Sunday, the 10am service is livestreamed, and the preacher had already decided that he would give his sermon to an empty church so that it could be broadcast online. The eight of us singers are young, healthy, likely virus free people, and there’s enough room in the choir loft that our small group could stand a good distance apart. We already learned the anthem, after all, and I argued that if the eight of us were in the loft to sing the hymns, choral response, anthem, doxology, and benediction, it would make it feel more as if an actual church service were being streamed, instead of just a prayer and a sermon. One of the tenors felt the same, so we drafted emails, edited for one another, and sent them to our director. To my shock and delight, we had a response a few hours later agreeing to the idea! We usually sing four services on Sunday, but at least singing for one means I won’t have to settle for nothing.

I’m still really nervous about what the future will bring. I’ve been so proud of myself for the past three years, making most of my income from music jobs that were directly related to my degrees. This situation is serious enough that I might actually consider a change in my career. The thought of tying myself to a desk job is awful, but the thought of a stable income sounds heavenly. Let the creative problem solving continue.