It’s hard, this adulting thing.
While I’ve reached a sort of ‘inner peace’ in the not job hunting, I still am battling what I see in the mirror. I don’t like what I see. I see someone who is a failure at life and a huge ‘I didn’t think this is where I would be at this point in my life’ (hence the failure thing). I’m trying to do better at comparing myself to my friends and peers when it comes to where I am professionally and personally. I am trying to be happy for my friends who can afford to go traipsing off to far flung places that, in all honestly, I’ll never get to.
I am getting better at being an adult around the house, and not being the lazy bum that I think I am and that I think my husband thinks that I am.
But there are still days that I look in the mirror and all I SEE is an overweight, mid middle aged girl who cannot get her shit together.
I have a roof over my head, we are debt free and we’re able to at least put food on the table and (barely) pay rent.
I’m not drinking as much, so, yay? I’m trying to find other ways to cope. I am behind on my reading (I had given myself a goal of reading 50 books for this year. I’ve read 6), because when I have some free time, I tend to fire up the PS2 and kill monsters. I do try to read at least an hour a day, but there are definitely days of late where I haven’t even done that.
I’m trying not to stress out about the fact that our rent will probably hit 1k when our lease is up for renewal later this year. We have yet to have the WHERE THE FUCK DO WE MOVE TO talk like we agreed to have when we realized we would hit this point.
I really need to start at least walking more. I do try to move around at the book store and I’d like to think that once baseball season starts up that that will allow me to walk more. Although in all fairness, it’s been a chilly spring and it’s no fun walking when you are still having to spend ten extra minutes getting bundled up just to fucking leave the house.
I still have the pipe dream of starting my own business. and I need to make more of an effort of 1) updating this blog more often and 2) just writing in general more often.
Really the only thing that hasn’t changed is that the cat still hogs the bed.
So at least once a year, I fly home to the city of my birth to visit friends, family and to stuff my face with ALL. THE. SEAFOOD.
I stay with my mom and step dad and my mom has always insisted on paying for my flight. I’m over and done with changing planes and such, so I always pick a nonstop United or American flight. While flying has become stupid expensive, I also have to take into consideration the time it takes me to get to the airport, the time it takes me to get through security and all the other assorted things.
Generally, when doing a search for flights, I tend to pick ones that leave mid morning and the return flight for about mid afternoon.
(example, if a flight is leaving at say 10 am, I’m looking at walking out of my apartment around 7 am. Hence the huge OH FUCK NO in changing planes. It’s generally a 2 hour flight nonstop from point A to B)
I learned early on to wait to check in at the airport, because every so often, when I would check in, I’d get a little message on the computer screen that I could upgrade to first class for an extra $50 or so. Naturally I pounced.
I was hooked. Free booze, free food. Huge comfy seats and well, hey, it’s first class, right?
A couple of years ago, when I was researching flights, for pure shits and giggles, I found a flight where coach was around $300 and first class was $500. !!!!! In the past, flying first class from point A to B is twice that.
I had the money, so I picked first class, told my mom the coach fare and just paid the difference myself.
That was it. Game. Over.
Since then, my general rule of thumb is looking at coach and first class and if I can swing it, I’ll book first class and pay the difference (I’ve been lucky about 90% of the time, where the difference is maybe $200). There have been times where I’m stuck in coach, but those times have been few.
Two years ago, when I was flying down for my 50th birthday, the lady sitting next to me and I really hit it off (yes, I was in first class). We ordered champagne, and more champagne and had our flight person rolling with laughter. She had never been to my home town and I spent the flight giving her all the ins and outs and where to go/what to eat.
Right now I’m probably going down around the first or second week of September. First class and even coach prices are a tad on the WTF/give me your blood and first born side, so I’m going to wait a couple of months to see if prices go down. And I’ll be feeding my savings account just in case.
In general, I’ve found that booking flights about three months out give me the best prices so I’ve got about three months to keep an eye out. I have a price in mind and if I see either airline post that price within $20, I’ll pounce.
It’s so silly. And petty. But fuck me on a pogo stick, gimme that free booze and food any time.
Along with working on this jealously issue, I need to work on taking care of ME.
My self worth is still floating around in the lake, but I think I saved it from drowning. I hope.
I still don’t like what I see in the mirror, especially from the POV of, say a customer coming into the bookstore.
I see a late middle aged, overweight female who has gotten stupid lazy about keeping the grey hairs away. And I then see FAILURE. LOSER. FAT. STUPID.
Need to work on that. I just don’t know where to start.
I need to accept that this might be “it” for me in regards to my professional life. Still swallowing that pill….very bitter.
I do have a few things to look forward to in the coming months. My boys from Ireland are playing two shows in mid May. And I’ll be doing my yearly trek to the city of my birth in September to stuff my face with ALL THE SEAFOOD.
I just have to keep telling myself One Day At A Time. Baby steps.
Easier said than done.
or really 5 am, I’m wide the fuck awake. I’ve been awake since 3. I thought that getting rid of a huge stress creator in my life might allow me to, oh, sleep better? Apparently not.
Might just be an age thing. Joy!
One of the many things I need to work on now is getting over this insane jealousy from seeing friends who, as they present themselves on line, seem to have these amazeballs lives.
Because I still see myself as a huge failing loser over not being able to find a full time job, I am equating that to not being able to have nice things, not being able to spend money, not being able to go places.
Therefore, anyone who is able to do those things must be better than me and obviously is doing adulting better than I am.
Oh. I guess that’s whats keeping me up.
You’d think that if I actually bothered to fucking pony up the money to keep a blog that I’d, oh, you know….update. Right?
Life and that silly adulting thing has such an annoying habit of getting In. The Way.
I stopped actively job hunting in January and I can honestly say, Best. Thing. Ever. in recent times that I have chosen to DO.
No more silly dreams, no more stress. Just me and my silly little bookstore gig and starting next month, I’ll also be working home games for that Northside favorite team.
I’ve really reached the point where if a job lands in my lap, I’ll grab it and run and if it doesn’t, oh well.
It’s not worth the mental, and physical stress and it sure as shit is not worth the toll it was taking on my marriage.
In other news, I keep on buying cookbooks at work. Fucking Evil Employee Discount. And I seem to be coming home with other random books as well. To the point where my husband said we’d have to start weeding books.
I gave our paperbacks a good once over and told him that the ones that he would never read (Game of Thrones, and the Cave Man porn series – really, if you have to ask, for shame. You should know of who I speak And a few other random books) because I can put said books on my Kindle Fire (let’s ignore the fact that I work for the one remaining bookstore chain in the country and Amazon are their direct competition (but hey, I got the Fire for stupid cheap long before I started working for said store)….wait where was I?
Oh, so, yeah, I can put said books on the Fire. So now I’ve got this ass long list of books to read.
So many books. So little time.
The other day I deleted all the job apps from my phone, all job related bookmarks, and all but my most up to date resume from the laptop.
I have to make the best of what I’ve been given and continue to just take one day at a time. I need to not let this stress eat away at me the way it has.
I’m tired of having a dream two or three times of week where I’m not able to do something or go somewhere. (It’s not a reoccurring dream, but each dream has the same ‘plot’ – something petty keeps me from doing something or going somewhere. It has been as easy as trying to get from one room to another.)
This not being able to find a full time job has taken a huge toll on my mental and physical health and it’s affected my marriage.
While my self worth is still drowning, maybe I have a chance to throw it a buoy for it to float on for a while.
There are so many things that I have to process now, but I hope that this is a small step in a somewhat right direction.
I am so full of self loathing.
I am fat.
I am a loser.
I am a failure.
I am a fuckup.
I don’t deserve nice things.
I am a horrible wife.
I am a lazy stupid slob.
I am stupid.
My husband found an old PS2 game at a thrift store the other day and picked it up, knowing he could re sell it on eBay for 3 times what he paid for it.
So naturally he dug out the PS2 to make sure the game worked. It worked fine. I was more excited that the PS2 itself still works.
Which means I’ve been replaying a game that I haven’t played in over two years and I’m surprised how much I remember.
I have always loved (most of) the Final Fantasy series of games. From the old days of the pixel games, FF6 is probably my favorite. And from the more recent, FF12 hands down, I can play over and over. FF12 is pretty much considered PS’s swan song. I loved it immediately because it didn’t have a sappy whiny lead character nor did it have a sappy love story. It’s very dark and political.
So yeah, total reverting to a teenager on my days off replaying this game. Time suckage at it’s best.
I was trolling Craigslist the other day and saw a post from someone who wanted to interview people who had dropped out of college, why they had dropped out and a few other related things.
The kid (ok she’s 26, but really, I’m 51. She’s a kid) is working on her masters in Poly Sci at Notre Dame. I replied to her post and had a very interesting talk with her today.
I graduated from high school in the mid 80s. It was understood that I would go to college. I went to a small state school that was far enough for me to get out of the house but still close enough to go home on weekends. I choose that school because the state huge ass university that everyone went to was well, huge. I would have been a number.
I went to private schools growing up and this small state school seemed to be a better fit for me. I lived on campus, I joined a sorority (because that’s what you did), I basically had the quintessential college experience.
Except that I never graduated.
Math and I have had a mutual hate hate relationship since I was little. It’s the one subject that I struggled with. I got out of high school by the skin of my teeth. (Did you know that it’s possible to score in the single digits on any one part of the ACT? Yep)
Thanks to my ACT scores, I had to take a placement test for math and took two semesters of remedial math. (We called it James Bond math, Math 002 and 003 is what I took) Every semester after, I would get to mid term and have about a 30 average. DROP that shit.
I tried extra help, tutoring, going to the math majors in my sorority, nada. The planes still went so above my head, they left contails in the sky.
What ended up being my last semester, I took classes to fulfill my minor because they were easy A and B grades for me. When it came time to register for the following semester, I just couldn’t. I never went back.
In hindsight, I don’t know what I could have done different. Maybe going to a community college? I used to regret dropping out, but any and all regrets in my life went out the door when I hit my 40s. (Life is too fucking short to regret. I’ve got better things to do than spend mental energy on what could have been. I made my bed, I gotta lie in it.)
Overall I had a good college experience. I still keep in touch with my theatre friends and see a few of them on my yearly trips back to my hometown.
I don’t know if having that degree would have changed any of my career choices. Granted in today’s world, having a masters is the new BA. And unless I get a free ride, I have no desire to finish.
We are debt free, so unless someone hands me a wad o cash, there is no way I’m taking on a student loan at this stage of my life.