Those of you who know me well may have figured out that I am an eternal pessimist. I try not to be, but I often get wrapped up in my vision of the worst, and can't imagine anything but that vision happening. That's where I am right now.
I have to get a job. A full time job, probably in the city. Being a one income family is not working anymore, and we are more than broke. Our bills and groceries in a month add up to more than we bring in. It sucks. So, I'm going to get a job. We talked about me getting a job here in town, most likely at the gas station. I have decided though, that if I am going to get a job, I want it to be a decent one. So, I am looking at clerical type positions in the city. I type quickly and well, and I have lots of customer service experience, so I should be able to find something in time. The problem is, I really, REALLY don't want to work. It's not that I'm lazy, it's that the thought of someone else raising my daughters makes me physically ill. The things I will miss out on, the fact that I'll only be with them two days a week while someone else gets to be with them the rest of the time, the fact that I won't be around for Mary's first day of school, for the day that Frannie decides to actually walk on her feet, I'll miss all the funny conversations, the fights, the fun. It really upsets me. I couldn't sleep last night, this morning I keep crying...I'm a mess, and so far I've only applied for three jobs. I hate it, I don't want it, and I don't have a choice. Blargh.
Also, we ate meat that has since been recalled. I'm not thrilled about that either. I am a bit of a hypochondriac (though not as much as I used to be), and when Mary had some gastrointestinal upset this morning the first thing that went through my brain was "OMG! It's listeriosis! We're all going to DIE!" I quickly calmed myself, but I'm still a little worried. I suspect her tummy problems had more to do with McDonalds for lunch yesterday and the stinking heat, but I'm still watching her like a hawk. Symptoms of Listeria poisoning can show up anywhere from 2 to 90 days, so I have a lot of time to worry. Of course, when I'm working, I guess the babysitter'll have to watch out for that, eh?
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Various observations on life from inside the invisible jail of motherhood.
4 comments:
On the bright side, you get to talk to grown-ups. Usually.
If you need a personal ref. and they don't mind a long distance call, I'd be happy to say lovely things to potential employers about you.
Hope Mary's OK.
What I've heard about the recall is that they erred on the side of caution, so the odds are very good that whatever you ate was okay.
Goody is right, Jen -- getting out of the house will at the very least put you in contact with other human beings. A lot of people make their best friends through their work, after all (assuming that you work with someone, like at an office). Considering how lonely and cut off you've been feeling, surely this could only be a good thing?
You will, after all, still see the girls at night and not just two days a week. Ian does it, right? My only real point is that while you might like the idea of raising your girls full time, doing so hasn't really been working for you either, has it?
You're right, of course. I am looking forward to meeting people, and occasionally having an adult conversation. I suppose I just thought that when I went back to work it would be for different reasons. Like, because I wanted too, or because I had a really great job that I enjoyed lined up.
I think part of my problem is that my mother stayed at home with us, so I never experienced being in daycare. In my brain I know that the girls will still love me, but there's a part of me that can't help thinking that they won't, that they'll love the person they're with most of the time more. Irrational, certainly, but I can't help it. Hopefully my fears will be put to rest once I start working, even if it is just pumping gas on the days Ian is home.
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