I am going to admit some things here which may make me look quite pathetic, spoiled, lazy and plain unlikeable. But I need to be as authentic as I claim to be. I hope I can word this understandably.
I have been through a lot of shit in my life. A lot of icky, weird, fucked up, depressing ass shit. For those who read often, you know me pretty well…even if we’ve never met. But there is no one who knows everything. And few who know most. I will not even try to compare my pains with those of others. I know people in my life who – in my eyes – have or have had it much, much worse. People who struggle with challenges I cannot conceive. And who succeed and flourish in spite of those problems. So while I am saying I know there are those who have it worse…that I fully realize it COULD be so much worse…I still have had a pretty shitty go of it.
I have hated 99% of the jobs I’ve had in my life. And I have done it all…well, all that can be done that is legal, clothed and without the need of a college degree. I was a cashier, server, bartender, customer service, patient services, surgery coordinator, office manager, HR assistant…restaurants, clothing, bars, hardware, banks, grocery, hospital, corporations…Lets just say I have a lot of various experience. And I took pride in my work regardless of what I did. I was always a quick learner and I did a good job. Still, almost always I dreaded work like it was the plague. I felt bored, depressed, unfulfilled as I sat at those desks, counted other people’s money, served people beer, answered complaining calls – there were only 2 jobs I actually liked. I felt busy, interested and worthwhile. But only twice.
Because of this and my strong desire to raise my own child…I really looked forward to being a stay at home mom. I even started early with my step daughter while I was pregnant (and a little before). I am so grateful that I was able to be home with Cassidy for those 6 years. I complained. I bitched. I was bored. I was stressed. My brain melted. But the positives SO outweighed the negatives. And I am so very appreciative that I could do that – even when it wasn’t easy emotionally or financially.
How am I tying this all together? Well, because I feel my life has been stupidly difficult, because I hate working mindless jobs, because I love being here for the kids and my home and family…I have kinda felt that being able to be home is my reward of some kind. Like, the only good thing aside from the people I love of course. I started working when I was 14. And I babysat for money for years before that. I felt that since I had to go through this and that and everything else…at least I don’t have to get up everyday to go to a job I absolutely hate. I watched my mother do it my entire childhood. On Sundays she would start to become visibly depressed because she had to go to a job she hated 40 hours a week. She despised it and I could see it very clearly.
Now I am pushing 40. My only child just entered kindergarten. And finances are not great. I am not stupid. I know it is expected of me to go back to work. I know that I need to do something. And when I try (I really do try) to get a job and get rejected…it makes it all the harder. It makes it easier to stay in bed and cry. I think to myself…okay, I would probably really hate being a cashier at the grocery store it could make me even more miserable. But I will apply anyway because people have to do things they don’t want to do every damn day…and why should I be different. So, I apply. Then I get rejection (after rejection, after rejection…). It pisses me off!!
So here I am. About to go out and apply to be a server at various restaurants in town. Something I haven’t done since my 20s. Something that scares the hell out of me. Something I don’t even know if I can physically handle anymore. Something I never wanted to have to do again. I keep trying to talk myself out of it. But I know deep down that I can’t. I see my daughter’s two bottom teeth growing in crooked…so she will likely need braces. I see my husband in love with his pride and joy – the boat…and I could never ask him to give that up. I see my step daughter getting older and I know she will be requiring a lot more. And I don’t want to buy the shitty apples at the store…I want Honeycrisps. We have this life now and I need to participate in helping it proceed.
But I cannot lie. I feel sick, depressed, panicky, pissed and stressed over it. Change is SO hard for me. I am not sure I can deal.
Hate me yet?