The rain stopped. The humidity dropped. We had gorgeous weather all weekend. Even the gray parts of Sunday were a welcome retreat from lightning bolts and sticky feet. But even if the Earth and Sun cooperated, it just wasn’t an A+ parenting weekend. I called my kid a little shit. To his face, people, to his face! I swore more times than I really should have. In my mind AND out loud. All patience was lost. The only time I relaxed was during my Saturday morning run, which was rushed because we had guests coming to town. Why, oh why, did I not digest all of this yesterday, before the weekend was over, when I still had time to straighten my mood with another, longer, run.
By Sunday I declared that I just needed to get out of the house. So I said, “I’m getting out of the house. Jamis needs new soccer cleats anyway. Are you coming or no?”
He came. We went. The whole fam-dam headed to the sports store for the annual fall gear round-up. We got gear, alright, including a cute new (and very much needed) running shirt for me (so you’d figure I would stop right here). But it was all pretty much a nightmare. And I found myself thinking of today. Monday. A day without the kids. A day I don’t have to pull the baby off the kitchen stools for the 100th time before he goes crashing to the floor, again. A day I can just sit, and be calm, and know that at least one single solitary thing was thoroughly completed, even if it wasn’t MY thing, but a JOB thing.
There were many more reasons that I was looking forward to Monday. Like not tripping over Diego’s backpack, not washing a dish for at least six hours, not filling a cup, losing a cup, or spilling a cup of watered-down juice. But I’m too tired to rehash. I’ve never been too good at rehashing. If you catch me in the moment, or at the first telling of a story, I’m pretty animated and enthusiastic. After that, it’s all downhill. I get increasingly droopy. It’s the same thing with thoughts. Once I have them, they are great. Then they are gone. Add to that the fact that I pretty much already vented to Jen about my horrible weekend, so I’m tapped out on the most descriptive elements. Just know that it wasn’t too peachy and I wanted to come back to work.
So here I am. Monday. Work. And, go figure, I don’t particularly want to be here EITHER! I don’t mind working, but I’d much rather be doing my own thing, or at least doing something interesting, or at least working with interesting people. None of the above is the case here at my paying job. My make-sure-the-family-has-health-insurance job.
I’m not complaining about any of this. Nope, not any of it! I’m perfectly fine with having a bad weekend, longing for time away from my kids, and cursing out my job on a daily basis. I’m accepting of all of it. What I’m not accepting of is status quo. So here’s the facts and what they mean, to me at least:
- There will be good, better and best weekends. And those that sink you, too.
- I will always long for time away from the kids, so I’ve nixed any guilt I might feel about that before it even has a chance to start.
- Cursing about one’s job, and one’s boss, is perfectly American. Living like that forever, is not.
This brings me to change. To future. To CHANGE!
What changes? What do I do to earn a bit of income for my family? How do I like my job and earn money at the same time? Will I ever be one of those people, luckily, who likes what she does for a living? Or will I just rot, in an office, from 8-5, until we win the lottery?
It’s so disturbing, you see, because this just isn’t me. I had a revelation last week (not unlike the 89 weeks before that) that I am not using my talents to the best of their ability. That, while I am good with numbers and have amazing attention to detail, I should not be locked in an office all day. It’s not me. I’m a people person. I’m not a social person, but I’m a people person. (And I think I’m just daunted by the word “social” anyway, that’s why I say that. I’m a small crowd person, as opposed to a large crowd.) So what, if anything, do I do about this?
{ 3 comments… read them below or add one }
Wow. I’m out of breath. I guess I have to say go back and reread this when you feel like you are, after all, okay with the status quo. And I throw the question right back at ya: What, if anything, ARE you going to do about this?
Sometimes I act a little impulsively. I recognize this tendency and try to moderate it. But, you know. I agree with Liz. Reread it sometime (soon, perhaps). And if it still eats at you, then explore.
Gah. Me too. It seems so redundant that I am commenting again with the response: me too. My work is almost perfect and not quite perfect so what next?
What next for you? What next for me? It just goes on. It started after I had my third and (ahem) last baby. And then I found out I was pregnant with baby four and it gave me reprieve from thinking about what to do next but now she’s two and I’m back there, back in that space wondering what to do next?