I’m trying really hard



Tuesday mornings, one of the best days of the week for me... Oliver is at his dad’s, and I can wake up and do my thing without having to worry about getting another human fed, ready and set for where he needs to be for the day.

I am not working currently, so I can casually get my morning coffee, sink into my sofa, open up the laptop and dig in. I can read emails, check out the news, or catch up on texts. I can get started on work before 8 am; it is always nice to get a head-start on the day.

Things are bugging me today, and maybe I am imbibing in a drink of self-pity perhaps. I am spending way too much time donating my time to my son's school. It’s a full-time job that even takes over my weekends. I'm swamped and cannot keep up with the amount of work it entails.

The job market is not thriving and even though I am super talented with a great deal of experience, the process has not produced results yet. I cannot afford to not work, but I cannot afford to take a $15/hour job either (and even those are difficult to find). The bills are piling up and I'm pretty sick to my stomach about it today.

This, after a run of really great things happening which seemed like SFG’s (Signs From God) or GW's (God Winks) that 2020 was going to be my year. I’m still hopeful, but that hope is dwindling. I’m making plans to pack up in a few months. Sigh... pushing away the resignation, "Not this again..." No, I must breathe life back into Hope.

The clamp around my chest is tight. I fear the worst. I am angry. I'm angry in every direction except at my child. I'm angry I have too much volunteer work to do and it’s in the front seat while the job search is in the back seat. I'm angry that I have all this to offer and cannot get hired. WHY? I'm angry that all my money is gone. I'm ashamed. I'm embarrassed. I've been given so much and cannot understand why it’s not enough to get a job.

In a few months, I will likely lose the cottage too. Door County Mom will be gone. My apartment. My car. And Oliver will need to change schools. All this is on the line right now.

And the PTO needs all my help while I'm praying that the rest of my life does not fall apart in 45 days — April 1st, the date I need to give notice on this apartment.
























Comments