Taking stock

I'm in a mood tonight. A funk, a tailspin, a little black cloud state of mind. Whatever you call it, it ain't pretty.

Life sucks ass most days. I'm 37 - I'm not young anymore, and I've probably wasted a lot of time that I could have made better use of. I'm single, I'm opinionated, I'm too independent and stubborn for my own good, I'm nowhere near the societal norm of beauty (although when I'm not in a mood I think that's probably a good thing, if I could just tone up and shrink my disproportionately large butt a little), I'm short on patience, I'm sarcastic.... I could list my flaws for the better part of the night, if I sat here and thought about it.

My job. Feh. I'd like to know, why did I bother to get a law degree if I don't have sense enough to seek out a position that pays me what it's worth? Hell will freeze before I get a raise at this job. I have a co-worker who's knocked herself out for over a year, working overtime and weekends trying to get ahead - no raise, no bonus in two years. I don't know for sure why she hasn't gotten a raise or bonus. Maybe there's something about her job performance I don't know. Maybe there's something about her I don't know. All I know is, it doesn't seem right for someone to work that hard and not get any reward for doing it (and she's not an attorney, so I'd be willing to bet her paycheck is less than mine). She's got a family she could be spending time with, but she sacrifices that, and sacrifices her own well-being, to try to get ahead at work. So if she's not getting raises or bonuses, it's a pretty good bet that I won't, either - I'm not about to give up my nights and weekends and what little time I do have with J. And I don't think this job pays what a law degree is really worth. Granted, it's not practicing law, but the degree should be worth something. And as far as finances go, I don't want a better paying job just for the sake of the money. All I want to do is have enough to comfortably take care of my son and provide for him and his future, and maybe think a little bit about my retirement, so they don't drag my cold dead body from my cubicle when I drop in my tracks, still working to put food on my table at age 87.

And along the lines of money - it's always something. My A/C is on the blink. Yeah, in June, in Texas. Whoop-de-fuckin'-doo. It's currently about 83 degrees in my house, and it feels like south Hades. By some miracle my son has finally managed to go on to sleep. Thank God for ceiling fans, or it really would be nasty. What did we do before air conditioning? So there's money I'll have to shell out - may be a little, may be a lot, but it's still money I wasn't planning to spend.

Every day I get up and do the same stuff - get dressed, get J dressed, drop him off at school, go to work, slog away for eight or nine hours, come home, dinner, bath, bed (hopefully before 10:00), a little time for me, try to keep up with the neverending tide of laundry and dirty dishes and general clutter with varying degrees of success. I pick up the same toys every night, only to have them strewn about the next day. J is starting to help, but hasn't fully grasped that once we put the toys away, they stay away. I load and unload and reload the dishwasher. I do the wash. It gets dirty again. No one notices but me. No one appreciates that I do it - J isn't old enough to really realize yet that these things benefit him, and me telling myself "thank you" just doesn't seem to mean much. No one sees the house. Why do I try? Why do I care? I used to get really upset that I couldn't keep house like my mother - this was when I first got married. Her house was always immaculate, and it bothered me that as a newly married wife I couldn't do what she did - my house generally looked pretty lived in, and this was before there was any thought of a child, it was just me and K. I realize now that, even though she stayed home after they adopted me, she never stopped - she worked all day, every day to keep the house looking that good, keep up with the laundry and the dishes and the mess and the three hot meals a day (well, two, I fixed my own breakfast, but still). And she never stopped. I know why now - if she'd have sat down, she wouldn't have gotten back up to keep going! If she could barely do it all as a full-time wife and mother, how am I ever supposed to do it as a working single mother? I need a maid. No, scratch that, I need a wife.

And tonight it struck me how much of my time with J is spent rushing him to get dressed, encouraging/pushing him to go to bed/take a bath/brush his teeth, and how very little time we generally have during the week just to do fun things and enjoy spending time together. In the mornings, it's get up, rush rush rush, gotta get out the door. Getting up earlier isn't much of an option - I guess it could be done, but it would be difficult. In the evenings, it's let J play/watch TV while I fix dinner/clean the kitchen/do the laundry/insert chore here. Then we might play for a little bit, and then it's time for a bath. If he's feeling horsey about bath and bedtime, the next hour or two may be spent wrangling a reluctant screaming boy into the tub, and then trying to convince him to stay in bed and be still for long enough to realize he really is sleepy. I hate that I get vexed and frustrated for such a big chunk of my time with him - I don't want him to think that means that somehow I love him less, because that's not the case at all. I just find it vexing in the extreme when he's rubbing his eyes, asking to turn out the light and go to bed, and yet he keeps fighting and fighting to stay awake (not even do anything fun, just stay awake) for just a few minutes more. I wish I had more time to spend with him that was fun time, family time, learning time, playing time. But I don't, and it sucks. And weekend time is split with K. Not that I mind having time to myself - I don't, and I'm sure I'll come to treasure it, and I know taking care of myself makes me a better mother to J. It just sucks, that's all. It sucks that my marriage has to fall apart for me to really get time to myself.

I think I've wallowed in the pity pit long enough for one night. Time to crank up the fan in my room and try to sleep. Perhaps that Wellbutrin will help me with my mood as well as with my blood pressure after all....