I didn't get the PR job I interviewed last week for. I got the "Dear John" letter in the mail today. On top of already feeling a little unwanted now that Punky is successfully sleeping through the night in her own bed, this was just the kick in the nards that made me feel especially worthless and pissy.
So I did what I needed to do to make myself feel better. I plopped Punky in her walker in front of Baby Einstein and, as I hummed along to synthesizer Mozart and fingered the concertos on my right hand like I could still play them on the piano, I drank a good stiff glass of Valpolicella. And felt thoroughly, completely, and utterly sorry for myself.
I don't know why I want a job so bad. Well, I do, I just can't pinpoint one particular reason. A and I have been househunting, and I know that we could look for an entirely different tier of houses if we had two incomes. He says we're okay financially, and maybe we really are, but I hate not contributing financially to the household. I hate seeing him dumping hard-earned money on my student loans, which were taken out to pay for that really expensive piece of paper hanging on the wall that I've yet to use. Did I waste four years of my life on a degree that I don't know if I'll ever use? Should I just suck it up and go back to The Restaurant, as much as I truly do love it and everyone there? Is that it? Am I just destined to be a degree-holding waitress the rest of my life?
Then I start wondering if my job search would be this difficult if I hadn't gotten pregnant a week after college graduation. And it's at this point that the whole world turns shit sandwich because that's when I REALLY start hating myself and my thought process, and where it will inevitably turn if I don't have another glass of wine to divert myself.
I'll get over it. I'm trying to convince myself that I really didn't care about the job, and that it just means I get an indefinite extension in playing with The Punky all day. And really, I can't complain too much.
But in the meantime... I'm going to drink and sulk.
2 hours ago
4 comments:
I think I know exactly how you feel, and this is why it is so tough to be a woman/mother being pulled in two different directions. I gave up my career to raise my daughter (also a surprise pregnancy, now 20 months) after a year of internal struggle. I know I did the right thing. Someone told me that on my death bed, I would never look back at DD's toddler years thinking, "Gosh, I wish I had worked more!"
I still have moments where I feel like I am not contributing enough (financially), but I am contributing something much more valuable. I am raising a thoughtful and caring individual, and I am supporting my husband by creating a warm and inviting home. I don't know how well I would be able to do this if I was also working 8+ hours a day. My college degree is not a waste because it made me a more intelligent and worldly individual who will be able to share my knowledge with my children.
It sounds like you really love spending time with your daughter. My suggestion. coming from my own experience, is to enjoy these moments wholeheartedly and live in the present instead of being anxious about the future. There is more to life than money, and I truly believe that everything happens for a reason.
Ditto what Michelle said.
Plus, in terms of finances:
How much would the PR job pay in relation to the expense of a babysitter/daycare for the baby?
Everything has its cost, even jobs.
You're such a dick for not telling me about this blog. I'm probably going to stab you in the jaw. You're going to have to eat soft foods for the rest of your life and you will talk funny. People will whisper, "What happened to her?" Then people in the know will answer in hushed low tones, "Ross happened to her. Fuckin' Ross."
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