Not sure what I thought I would get from this blog but looking back over it, there are things that I am embarrassed to have shared. I feel like my little mid-life meltdown was /is a moment of insanity. Everyday I have some new idea about what it is I want to do with this life. On Tuesday, I have an interview with Princess cruise line to be a tour guide in Alaska from May until September. The interview is about 3 hours away and I am not sure if I will even go because the thought of leaving Handy Manny alone for 5 months is hard. Secretly, I would rather work on a cruise ship if I am going to be away so long. Since we are in a port city maybe I would be able to see him once a week or so? But who knows, I may get an interview for that position and run for the hills. What the hell is going on with me? Why am I so restless? Everyday I have a new idea of some new adventure I want to run off to. Maybe I am just trying to escape problems that I am facing here? Maybe I am trying to live a little and make up for all of those years that I did what I was supposed to do even if it went against my very nature.
There ‘s also the issue of feeling like a spoiled /lazy brat who refuses to work in a job that she loathes. Don’t most people work in jobs that they hate? Why do I feel that mine is any worse than anyone else? I have placed a burden on my husband and that is not fair. It’s time to get my crap together and make a move one way or the other.
I’ll admit I live my life at half ass. I never truly commit myself to anything or anyone. I am the first to admit it, I was a half ass teacher. I am a half ass wife, a half ass friend, a half ass blogger, a half ass family member (except to my daughter), a half ass Catholic, a half ass housekeeper (surprise!), a half ass homeowner, and a half ass cook. I could go on but I think you get the point.
Looking around I don’t think that I am alone at living life half assed. Would it be so bad to fully commit to something? Would giving our all open us up to more problems, more chances at rejection or is it simply just too much work? I think I’m going to try putting more effort into day and seeing what becomes of it.
Ok, I’ll admit it I have made a mess of my life. I guess I figured that if I just walked away from my job that I hate, something else would fall into place. Well nothing has fallen into place and here I sit with no income, no hope of income and completely bored out of my skull. I know, I know it’s hard to feel sorry for someone so stupid as to walk away from a secure job. I’ve always had trouble staying anywhere that I am not happy. I’ve walked away from several jobs, several friendships, a marriage and quite a few relationships that no longer worked for me. Things get so bad that I get so depressed, restless and miserable that its like I have no choice but to walk away. How in the hell does someone stay at a job that they don’t like for 30 years or more? Why can’t I just suck it up and stick it out ?
I was probably 20 and out to dinner with my husband who was 10 years older. We were at a restaurant and I thought I’d be “classy” and order a glass of wine for the first time ever. No one in my house ever drank wine or even beer for that matter so I was pretty clueless as to how to go about ordering wine.
Posted in Life
Tagged humor, wine
We just moved my daughter back into college for the remainder of the year. She studied abroad in Copenhagen last semester so is now back on campus finishing up her junior year. Once again it is so hard to say goodbye to her. So hard to comeback here and see this cluttered house that is full yet feels so empty. I worked so hard for her yet can’t seem to find that fight for myself. It only took a day for that sinking feeling to return. What now? Haven’t done anything about this little business that I want to start because I’m afraid. What the hell am I afraid of you ask? Who knows? What are half of the fears that we struggle with really about? Continue reading
I went to see my 90-year-old grandmother today. How sweet you say? Well not exactly. I haven’t seen her in years. She is my (asshole) father’s mother and always made it her mission to let us know we were an embarrassment. She would often tell us how disgustingly fat our mother was and what a loser our father was. She was clearly embarrassed by her two sons who were only “drivers” and their dirty kids. (Dad was a city bus driver and her other son (who just might be more of an asshole than my asshole father) was a truck driver). Don’t get me wrong, she had moments where she would try to be grandmotherly. Like the time when she took us poor kids who never shopped anywhere other than Kmart or thrift stores to a nice department store and told us too pick something nice out to wear. I had no clue how to even begin to pick out something nice to wear and certainly didn’t want to appear greedy so I simply shrugged my shoulders. She then proceeded to yell to me in the middle of the store, “What, They Don’t Have Kmart Clothes Here So You Don’t Want Anything?”. She did fly me out to her big house in New Jersey twice. The house was beautiful and much like a museum. I couldn’t touch anything and had to make my bed and clean up after myself. Imagine a kid that lives in a house full of disorder, mess and crap moving into a museum for 2 weeks. It was not fun and she always seemed to bring me to her hairdresser to cut off my “straggly hair”. It would take months before strangers realized I was actually a girl and not a handsome young man(as I was often called). I remember stealing a pack of her cigarettes and smoking in the bathroom while she took her daily nap. I was about 8 years old so I wasn’t inhaling just simply so damn bored. I hid the pack up in the closet that she decided to clean out just before I left. She never suspected me for a second and blamed it on some boy cousin or nephew that had been visiting recently. I also recall writing my mother a letter that I knew Grandma would want to proofread, so naturally I wrote about how much fun I was having. Then I went back to the room with the sealed envelope, partially opened it and slipped a note in begging Mom to come get me. FAT CHANCE!
Anyway, she is not doing well and I have been hearing about all of the health issues that she is dealing with. I decided it was time to forgive and forget and spend some time with her before it was too late. I called and asked if I could stop by and my grandfather took the opportunity to go grocery shopping and leave me alone with her. She seems to be in the beginning stages of dementia but still had some insults to share. She told me how successful her sister’s grandkids were and how big and beautiful their houses were ( was she taking jabs at my matchbox house?). Then she mentioned how my brother was always her favorite even though she hasn’t seen or heard from him for twenty years.. It was not such a bad visit and my grandfather was grateful to be able to shop without worrying about or listening to her complain. I told him I would visit whenever he needed me and to not hesitate to call if he needed something. Let it be..
Here I sit almost 5 months after walking away from my job as a teacher. All I really want to do is travel the world but realize that this isn’t really an option at the moment (though I keep applying any and every job that has anything to do with traveling). I also have an idea for a small business that won’t make me rich but should bring in some money and keep me out of the classroom but I can’t seem to bring myself to act on it. I came up with a name, filed for a corporation (found out after that you don’t need to do that right away), had a friend help me design a logo but that is as far as I have gone. Why do I feel terrified to get a website up (clueless on how to do this but working on a simple WordPress page to use for now). Perhaps it’s because this business won’t help me to travel and may actually hinder any traveling that I might get the opportunity to do.
Maybe this yearning to travel has more to do with escaping some of the problems that I am facing here and I know that if I start this business it won’t allow me to travel like I so want to. Either way this fear is keeping me up at night. I am terrified of getting this business started but I am also terrified to not starting it and being forced back into a job that I loathe.