I feel like I can't be me.
And that's not a good feeling.
I am never not doing something for someone else.
For the house.
For the kids.
For the clients.
For the family.
For the friends.
For the cats.
I am always doing the busy.
That is my own choice.
I have a hard time letting go of some of the expectations I've set up for myself.
I have plenty of help around the house. And at work. And in the theater. And everywhere else I go.
The boys are well taken care of, but the days are so very very long.
The mornings rushed and the evenings somehow worse. And still there are piles of clothes clean and dirty. Dishes washed and unwashed. Papers sorted and unsorted. Bills paid and unpaid.
We need a new couch. Desperately. As in, where there once was a couch now there is none. Just a bunch of air to fill up the living room. The chair is gone too. Don't ask.
No really, please, don't ask.
My work grant is winding down, we probably won't be funded for much longer. Nine months is most likely guaranteed, 15 is hoped for, 24 best case scenario. Months go fast, as do the years and I know the end will sneak up on me if I let it. I want so badly to walk away from this job and let it collapse on itself while I move on to something else or nothing else but I am ethically committed to the mission. I truly love my job. Mostly. Plus, new houses and student loans and daycare and after school care and the possibility of a new car on the horizon and eating food under electric lights all takes dollars.
I don't want a single income family. I like to work, I like to have my own money. I like to say "I'll pay for this" and fork over a sizable lump of cash. I don't like to spend other people's money. Even if it's legally half mine or however that works. Ethically half mine. Morally half mine.
It's a vestige from my childhood. I started paying for most everything I had at a young age. Fourteen maybe. By fifteen I was working most days of the week. I don't like to take things from other people. I have a hard time receiving gifts. It makes me feel barfy inside. It makes me feel like I am getting hand outs. Pity presents, even when they aren't. They rarely/never are.
I worry about finding a full time job that provides benefits. I'm the person responsible for the kid's benefits. Dave's job doesn't have the option of adding family members to his plan. His benefits are free from his employer but only for him. I worry about finding a full time job that provides flexibility. I'm the person most often responsible for the kid's daytime pick ups and chaperoning and room parenting and sick days. Dave's job doesn't often have the option of adding family members' schedules to his day.
Being available to my children when they need me or when the teacher needs me or when I need them is of utmost importance to me. Sick days and field trips and special class projects and weird school holidays trump my office demands. I can assure you that I have the most flexible job in the entire country. With the most days off. There is no one with a job more flexible than mine. No one, no job, no where. The pay is only borderline acceptable but the benefits are worth ten times what I'm paid.
I have some ideas to pitch myself to some for-profit entities, but I need some time to sit and think and write and devise and create and develop and buy some of that high-end resume paper to print it all out on.
I have some marketable skills and insider information that people want but they want it for free and I like to give it away by playing Girlfriends Chatting Over Coffee but pretty soon that isn't going to be fair to me. I don't mind giving the milk away in better times, but when I feel the pinch I get a little possessive with what I know.
I don't know any accountants who do taxes for free or doctors who do exams for free or auto repair people doing auto repair for free so I think I might stop doing what I do for free because it's eating up time.
It is going to be really hard for me because I think everyone is entitled to the information but I'm going to try to be a hustler.
I just got off the phone with someone who possesses a little bit of inside information and she said that things may be closer to the 24 month mark than the 9 month mark and that gives me a little spark of hope.
A little breathing room.
A bit of incentive to maybe take a day off sometime in the next couple weeks to get some planning done. Some housework done. Some Loraing done.
Because if I have closer to two years to pull my shit together and find something that allows me to be me and me to be Mom and me to be all that I like to be in between times I can start to breathe again.
I like when things change for the better in an instant. I think it happens more than we give credit for.