Sucks To Your Asthma

So I say that all the time, and nobody ever gets the reference.  Which is a shame, really, because that book is wonderful.

In completely unrelated news, I gave two weeks notice at my job last Thursday.  I despise my current job, and working there each day Monday through Friday was really not okay, especially when it meant having to put the Tiny Human in daycare and not being able to take care of him myself.  But it still took me a month or so of agonizing over it to be able to leave.

It's also an utter shame that I had to leave.  The job itself should have been perfect for me.  It was basically networking, with some travel to visit employers, a dash of student counseling, and lots of event planning.  I am good at all of those things!  I should have rocked this job eight ways from Sunday!  And yet, here I am, not even four months in and I've given notice.  That is freaking awful.

Even having given notice, I'm still of two completely different minds on this.  Part of me is ecstatic.  I have a part-time job that I'm falling back on (teaching LSAT prep classes) and I get to spend the vast majority of my time raising the Tiny Human.  The biggest perk is that I don't have to deal with my supervisor anymore, as my supervisor is the sole reason I am quitting my job.  And, hopefully, I may even be able to find time to work on the projects that I've been storing up for a rainy day or twenty.

Then again, it means we are basically a one-income household with a tiny baby to support.  It also means that I probably won't work full-time again, given the likely length of our stay in Lubbock, until we arrive at our next temporary permanent stop.  That is uncomfortable to such a depth that it makes me a bit sick.  That's two years without a full-time position on my resume, or with four months of a full-time position on my resume.  I don't know which is worse.  I also can't tell if I'm more terrified of the tight budget caused by the single income, or the long-term fear that my lack of work history will make me an untenable hire even once we find our next place.

It's too big to process it all at once.  I have to think about it a little bit each day, talking with Paul and worrying out loud to him and writing.  Lots of writing.  It helps.  I know I'll figure it out, but I want to be past the "what the freaking bleep did I just do???!?!?!?" stage and on to the "I am a calm, collected, and totally not insane person" stage.

And so, at the end of the day, I say to my unresolved mommy guilt and continually building ball of fear, "Sucks to your asthma."  Maybe one day I'll figure out how to build, for my guilt and fear, a stick sharpened at both ends.

Take care, and I'll write again soon!