I was warned about this transition, but I was not prepared for this simple request to be so weighted. My mom is still capable of taking care of herself and she lives on her own, so it seems even more odd to think that it’s happening now. Tomorrow I take my mother to the doctor for the first time.
It’s official. I have joined the ranks of the over-burdened, student loan-saddled masses of middle-income America. I GOT IN TO GRAD SCHOOL! Now what?! What have I just done?
Because I clearly do not have enough on my plate, I applied to graduate school. It shouldn’t be overwhelming considering I’m taking a class already, but this is different. This is a program; a graduate-level program. At a different University. I feel like it’s my last shot to get things right, back on track, which is, of course, ridiculous.
In my storied office worker past, I have held many roles, mostly administrative in nature and all involving helping others. In interviews, my favorite question is usually “What do you like least about your job” or “What do you not like to do?” My answer has held steady for over 15 years with “file.” It’s simple, relatable and though growing increasingly outdated, relevant. I haven’t met anyone who heard me say that and didn’t at least chortle. Honestly, who enjoys filing?
“Why I haven’t met your Daddy, Mommy?”
I’m still not clear on what triggered that completely reasonable question from my almost 4-year –old. I’ve had to answer it before, but this time there was more behind it. Lately I’ve noticed Miss O becoming increasingly observant and I can see how this is going to be a problem for a lot of people. I know I was woefully unprepared to have this discussion even though I’ve been dreading it since I found out I was pregnant. I knew it would come someday, but I don’t think I was truly prepared for the weight of it or how soon it arrived.
I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up. I have absolutely no life plan. I did at one time, or at least I thought I did. Then life happened, as it turns out, it often does. The resulting spiral of self-doubt, panic and analysis paralysis has lasted almost half my life now. It’s time to figure it out, right? So why can’t I?
I seriously just read the headline of a suggested post entitled “How to Assemble the Perfect Fall Cheese Board” and I honestly think I broke my eyeballs rolling them so hard. Clearly my blog interests are varied and strange, and I do love me some cheese, but that aggregator has no idea who I really am. My interest in assembling the perfect fall cheeseboard begins at cheese and ends with consuming the aforementioned cheese.
So I’m taking a class now. It’s something I’ve started and stopped several times – this new version of me. I’m not entirely sure what I’m working towards, but I know it’s different than what I was and what I am now. I suppose it’s supposed to be a better version of me, but I’m not really sure what would be better or why I need to really be better. I do know that ever since my career hit a huge speed bump – read position elimination at a crucial point in my path – I have been adrift and unsure of almost everything.
Today a bunch of Trader Joe’s Wheat Crisps soaked up my feelings and it felt amazing. It would only have been better had they sidled up to a personal-pan-sized wheel of Brie with some raspberry jam and gone all in.
Work has been rough lately.
Oh, you too? (Hugs)
There are moments, usually in the middle of one of Miss O’s tantrums or the aftermath of a tantrum, that I find myself wondering if this is the moment that I’ve ruined our relationship. Is this the moment when I’ve said something that will forever change how she feels about me as a mother or as a person?
Suburban Jackpot 