I just got home from substitute teaching a night class. My in-laws are out of town this weekend. It's just me, Bruce, and the baby (who's already in bed). Life is good.
Let's par-TAY!
In all seriousness, though, I've been feeling more like my old self lately. Even though I've been subbing here or there all summer, working the past couple nights made me comprehend that I'll be working for real again very soon. I'll be getting out of the house, having grownup conversations, and bringing home some bacon. Our situation will seem so much more bearable.
Thank goodness, because there are going to be some changes around here. Currently my FIL works from home. He works in a spare bedroom upstairs that has been converted to an office. It's right across from Emmie's room. I'm used to it, for the most part, but it was pretty awkward for a while. Imagine - your baby is screaming, writhing while you're trying to change her, which is frustrating on its own. Meantime you're worrying if it's disturbing your husband's father. Whatever you do, he's right there.
You're never really alone.
Well, Dad (I call him this, because I call my own father something else) has been pretty unhappy with his job for quite some time. Everyone in the house has been affected by his misery. He's decided to retire early. That's great for him.
What does it mean for me? Well, it means now when I'm home during the day Dad won't be in his office. He'll be on the couch, in the kitchen, passing in the hall. He'll be everywhere. We get along fine; he's a nice guy and a wonderful grandfather. But that's too much time with anyone you don't sleep with/didn't give birth to.
Luckily he's going to try to get a part-time job. We all know, however, how easy it is to get one of those nowadays. I haven't mentioned this before, but I applied for a bunch when I found out I wasn't going to be teaching this summer and I didn't even get a call. Not one.
The other thing that's happening is that Bruce's car is officially dead. We had a mechanic check out the weird brake thing and it turns out that the wheel bearing needs to be replaced. It would cost in the range of $400 - $800 to repair. That's a sizeable portion of what the jalopy is worth. We were told that to keep driving it would be considered a "safety issue at this point." So we have to get a new car. Regardless of the fact that we can barely pay our bills as it is.
This all was too much to stomach until recently. I had a good weekend, but then I got sick and sorry for myself all over again. I got well and then I worked. I put on makeup; I carried my professional-looking bookbag. I said goodbye to everyone that lives here and walked out the door. I stood at the front of the class and people, adults, listened to me. They took notes on what I said. I got paid for it. On the way home, I blasted girl-power CDs and rolled down the windows.
I texted Bruce an epiphany I had today: We're not going to be so poor when I start teaching again. We might be able to afford a car payment. We might be able to save a little. We can do this! Plus, I'll be doing my own thing on a regular basis. I will have a purpose beyond the confines of these walls.
I used to *jokingly* curse the women's movement for fighting to go to work. I'd be at my 9-to-5 office job, bored out of my mind, shaking my head, thinking, "What were they thinking? Working sucks!"
I get it now, ladies. I get it. Thank you.
No comments:
Post a Comment