Paycheck to Paycheck

I've lost it. I'm not sure what it was, but for a brief shining moment I was excited about all the possibilities of the world. About living them, cherry picking the best places, learning all the things that interest me, having an engaging career. A log cabin. A family.

Making the world better.

I left my job at the climbing gym. Lets face it, marketing and budget meetings, bureaucracy, email strands, a cubicle. I wasnt cut out for it anyway. I have since started a new job at an art production company. It pays a little better and has regular 9-5 hours, so I can drop off and pick up my son from daycare everday, put him to bed every night. That part is nice. Except that by the time I get home from my mind numbing job, and my 1.5 hour drive at rush hour, I'm too exhausted and depressed to do much of anything,

Here is my new job. Orders come in on the fax machine, email or occassionally phone. I prioritize them based on delivery date. Which is pointless because almost everybody needs their order rushed, asap, shipped today. So I take these pages and pages of order codes, and I key the POs into our antiquated computer program that freezes on me 20 times a day, and then I have to start over.

85348Z,

71072L,

3102C.

This is my day, all day, for 8.5 straight hours in a cubicle. A cold cubicle. Then there are all the exceptions "this company gets blah prices, that company gets shipped every monday, this company get free samples, that one gets charged, this one gets custom sized......" Then there are all the people who dont check their orders before sending them in, so the codes dont correspond to any images, or they order the wrong thing and need it fixed ASAP.

Its sucking my soul out through my fingertips.

Every morning I start out enthusiastic, telling myself to suck it up, that I can do this, its not that bad. And every day by 2 o'clock, I want to cry and walk out the door. Sometimes I do cry on my drive home. Or when I go to bed at night. I feel hopeless. I feel like it doesnt even matter anymore. No matter where I go or what I do, its going to suck. I'll still feel empty.

This is your life, and its ending one minute at a time.

My friends are out rock climbing, training at the gym, getting stronger, travelling, learning to dance. I am wasting away in a cubicle, at a job that requires no intellectual input, or physical effort. Its actually making me weaker.

Is this what I hoped and dreamed for in my childhood? Is this what I fought for scholarships for, maintained a 4.0 for, studied and suffered, learned endless computer programs and formulas, volunteered, trained for?

Paul Hawken writes that for every pound of electronics in your home there are something like 2 tons of industrial waste being poured into the environment. Assembly lines and production facilities operate at "cheap" cost efficencies while gobbling gallons of petrol and chemicals and burning coal. Meanwhile millions of people are unemployed and cant feed themselves or their families. We are using more and more of what we have less of (natural resources), so that we can use less and less of what we have more of (people). What's the point?

I suppose that if natural resources cost what they were actually worth, they would cost more than labor, and people would be employed. That at least would be something. But they aren't. This leads to depressed, frustrated, angry people who have been made to feel valueless, useless, forgotten.

At night, once Noah is asleep, I pore over the internet looking for jobs, paid internships, funded graduate positions. There's practically nothing. Very little that I'm "qualified" for and even less that I can do as a single mother. Even the tons of organic unpaid internships out there that provide food and accomodation at least, don't accomodate children.

Its fucked up.

Seriously.

So I search and search for something, anything better. I dont find anything. And I can't help but feel that I am missing some huge part of the picture. Like I'm only looking at the ground, and I've forgotten about the horizon and the sky, and the trees.

There has to be something better. Doesn't there?

And that's that.

I didnt pass my polygraph apparently. So hey, that jobs off the table. One less decision I suppose...
Still, I can't believe I didnt pass. I am one of the most honest people I know.

It has proudly been : 7 days : since the last Velociraptor incident

I've been feeling really down lately. No lie. I blame facebook. I have to admit that I'm a little bit tired of reading about/ seeing pictures of other people's happy nuptuals, house-buying announcements, graduation announcements, trip photos. Especially the weddings. So many of them this year. It's not that I want desperately to be married or anything, its more the idea that these people are so happy, and that they have their shit together. They're living life, doing the things they want, with the person they want. I feel behind.

For some reason it was the photos of a friend of an old x's wedding that really got to me. This guy ended up doing a graduate program in the dept where I got my undergrad. Facebook helpfully popped up the photos in my stream. I didnt realize it, of course, why would I, but he totally married this girl who was my TA for a class, and later I think we took a class together. I always thought she was super nice. I really am happy for them. They are both awesome people. They look really happy.

I guess its just that I don't want to be waiting anymore, for my life. I don't want to waste any more time just getting by, or doing something I don't want to do or hate, in the hopes that "someday" I will be able to do something that makes me happy, that I want to pursue. I guess that's why I am having so much trouble trying to figure out this job offer. Do I want to take it and hope that the next two years are ok? and somewhere I want to be? and get me towards something better? Or do I suck it up, pick up another service job, save up some money, move out west and hope for the best? Or try to go to grad school, work full time and be a single mom? And hope I can get a good job at the end of it. I suppose be fore great happiness comes great sacrifice. Or a leap of faith. I dont know.

I realize there are no guarantees in life. But lately it seems like I am damned either way. Like there's no way out. Like my life potential has already been had and squandered and ended. As it is now, living at home in a high stress environment with my certifiably crazy family members, and making no money at a job I am burned out on - sucks. I can't continue this way. I'll wither away. But at least if I get invited to a party, or want to go camping or climbing for a night - I have help. My Mom and sister, and even occassionally ex (one more reason to leave Richmond), can watch Noah and I can go out and do things. If I move somewhere new, I'll have no one. Especially if I don't move to the west coast, since my boyfriend wants to move there and wants me to as well. He won't stay here. I understand. I dont want to either.

Taking this new job means more money and independence. My own place, less stress, my own routine for Noah and I (yay!). It may even mean a new city (yay!, or boo). And no free time. And no one I trust to watch my son for an extended period. And no friends (I'll make some eventually). And no significant other.

Moving to the west coast with the significant other. Sounds awesome. I can really move towards the lifestyle I want to live, be healthier and more active. Have a chance at happiness... And have no one to watch Noah if we want a night out. No chance to go rock climbing or camping for a weekend anywhere hard or un-kid-friendly. But I can live vicariously through my boyfriend while he does. And no current job prospects. And then the relationship might not work out.

When I discussed these feelings with my boyfriend - the depression and damned either way feelings - "Yeah, but these are the choices you made." He responds. "Don't make decisions based on me". "I want to help you, but you'll be so much happier and stronger if you do it on your own." It's true. But I get upset anyway. I tell him that I dont need a lecture from him. I really don't. I know all of these things. I already feel like a failure almost every day. I tell him that despite my apparent cold, hard, alabaster exterior - I am actually a person and even I occassionally need a soft, encouraging word.

There are just too many things I want to be and do in life. Including being an awesome mother who gets to spend time with her son. And there's not enough time or money to do them all simultaneously. Or maybe even at all. But I don't want to give up. I can't just stop wanting and enjoying the things I want to do and enjoy. I don't want to feel bad, and lesser and left behind anymore.

Today in my EMT class we talked about HazMat. The instructor told a story about a police officer who pulled over an uncovered dump truck that was leaking something out of the back. All the officer did was climb up the back of the truck, peek in , and jump down. 30 minutes later he was in critical conditi0n in the ER. He never fully recovered. He had to leave the force. It ruined his life. He was essentially house-ridden for the rest of his life.
Sitting there, I realize, as I suppose I already knew, that I am not disabled. I have every ability and faculty and potential to reccomend me. There is no physical or mental disability preventing me from doing anything, really. And dammit, even if its hard and it sucks and it turns out badly, at least I can be out there experiencing life. I don't have to give up and shut in and work in a cubicle for 30 years to see my son on the weekends and send him to college so he can do the same. I won't give up. At least I am going to try. And I'll be experiencing things and living. I don't know if this helps me any with making the hard decisions coming up soon, but at least I can feel a little hopeful.
But sometimes, just sometimes, I wish there was someone out there who could tell me what to do. Who could see how it would turn out. Who could hook me up.

Blogalicious

So, randomly today I remembered that I used to have a blog. I think when I had the baby, and left the cubicle job, time for writing went out the window. I've had some time since then, mostly at work - in the new cubicle - and late at night after I have put the two year old to bed. But I forgot about blogging.

I've read a lot of Paulo Coehlo. He's one of my favortie writers/ philosophers.

Being a mother notwithstanding, I have been standing in place, possibly circling a drain for sometime now. 3-4 years, I guess.
But I don't want to be a victim of waiting anymore. I guess what I've realized is, that you just have to do it. Fuck consequences. If I worry about all the potential consequnces of every decision I think about making, I can go off into infinity. And the decision never gets made. I have a lot of nice possibilities. But no real opportunities. No action. No change. Waiting for conditions to be right, to have more money, a job offer......something.

I've always thought it would be bad ass to be a backcountry rescue ranger. I've wanted to get my wilderness emt certification. Money or time or babies have always gotten in the way.
Driving to work two weeks ago I saw a banner in front of the local po-dunk fire station. "Volunteers Needed. Training Classes Starting Soon"
I visited the website. The class started on Tuesday, the day after labor day. It was the Friday before. There was no one in the fire office til Tuesday morning. I wasn't an official volunteer yet, so I forced myself to stop by a rescue station on the way to town Friday afternoon and pick up a volunteer packet. Paperwork, release forms, three reference forms. These would never be done by Tuesday.
I went back and forth about it a lot. I could probably work my job schedule around the class, but maybe not. I could probably do all the work and make most of the classes and pass, but maybe not. What if I decided to move. Or the class was full. Or I couldnt take it because I wasnt a volunteer yet.
No one was in the admin office all weekend to ask questions of and Monday was Labor Day. So Tuesday at 7:30am I was up waiting for the clock to strike 8am so I could call and ask if I could register for the class. No one answered the phone until 8:15, the class started at 9am and I had to drive Noah 45 minutes to daycare and then 30 minutes back to the class building. Finally, I got the secretary, she said the class had lots of room, but would cost $150 if I wasnt a volunteer.
Thats hella cheap. The community college charges $800+ and that doesnt cover books, the exam fee, or CPR training. So I got Noah up, dressed, and in the car in record time. I was still 25 minutes late to class, but I didn't even have time to think about or worry about all the details or schedule over the 4 months class. I just went and walked in the door.

And it was great. I've only had two classes so far, but I think they will be a BREEZE. And I have been able to arrange my schedule around the class, with a little extra day care here and there. And it felt sooooooo good to have made a step in a direction. Any direction. I was on a high all day because I actually did something, other than subsist and be generally dissatisfied.
I guess the moral of the story is ....there's nothing to it but to do it. If you want to do something, dont worry about details, costs, consequences. Go do it. Take step one, then two then three. If problems and consequences arise, I know I can totally deal with them when and if they get here. But they're not here yet. So lets do it.

I've spent so much time the past few months aimlessly searching the internet for that "magical" opportunity that will fix things, that will make a change in my life. An apt I can afford on my own, a new job, a graduate program, an internship, scholarship...anything. And for once I got home that night and didn't feel like I needed to.

Add to that that I'd decided to quit my office/ managing job that is starting to suck at my soul, for a better paying waitressing job, move out of my Mom's house to an apt near my boyfriend, go to the park, eat organic food, bike ride and in general develop a good routine for my son and I on our own terms. Get to have my boyfriend over whenever I want, let our relationship grow etc etc. In fact, we'd even been talking about saving up some money, maybe moving in together, then moving to the west coast. Naturally getting awesome jobs doing something outdoors related and climbing, hiking and paddling to our hearts content in the beautiful pacific northwest.
And although, on my realistic side I realized it was a nice idea that would be hard to implement and maybe happen, maybe not - it didnt take any time at all for my damned feminine mind to project images of us at Pike Place Market buying fresh seafood for dinner.... my son on his shoulders. Walking the dog in the park on a sunny day. Summiting Rainier. Biking to work, teaching Noah to ride a bike......



The fact is I am over the 25 mark. 27. 30 is staring me in the face. I never worried about age before. But now I feel crunched. If I want to go back to school, I should do it soon. If I want to have more kids, I better settle down here soon and Accomplish all my other life goals and dreams in the next couple years so Noah can have some siblings that are even remotely close to him in age. That means if I want to learn ice climbing, mountaineering or backpack a 2 week or longer trail, I need to do it in the next two years. Plan ahead now. Pre-destine my 12 days off a year. Hope I can get 12 days off a year. Hope I have enough money to do the things I want to do, even if I have enough time. Get a real job, a career. The mystical one that I will love and want to do and feel fulfilled by. Where did all the time and possibility go? why do I not have more done by my age? What was I doing with my youth?
What am I doing with my now?

Fuck wits

When I asked my Uncle, who lives in Australia and is thus impartial in all cases of advice giving, if I should let Randy back into my life - After breaking up with him like 3 times, after he told me to get an abortion, after he left me four months pregnant - his advice was this :
The universe will keep sending you the same lesson over and over again until you learn it. So what you have to figure out is this; is this a lesson about forgiveness, cause everyone screws up, or is this a lesson about not trusting fuckwits?

I knew what the answer was immediately, but I was feeling like a good Christian. I was feeling scared and guilty. I was hormonal. I have a million excuses.
But the point is, I made the wrong decision. Again.
When you fuck up the same lesson this many times, does the universe just stop trying to help you out?

Living in the Country

The left front wheel hub. Seems it was bad. I didn't want to pay $250 to fix it, especially since I am an unemployed stay-at-my-parent's-home Mom. So I drove it until it started sounding really bad and was probably starting to pose a safety risk.
I live an hour outside of Richmond - in the BFE direction, in the country. So I thought I'd take it to the good old country garage Martin&Dabney's aka Spanky's a few miles from our house.
When I walk in it looks more like a forgotten auto parts storage closet/ deep fryer.
Seriously. To my right is all dusty auto parts, on shelves, hanging on the walls, hanging from the ceiling. In front and to the right of me is a dirty counter with various redneck bumper stickers on it, behind the counter is a greasy menu board and an actual bank of deep friers. And one of those hot dog rolly machines. I wouldn't eat something from there if zombies had taken over the Earth and it was the last food left. All the way to my right is an office door with a little window in the wall. The door is open. There's no one up front, so I'm not sure if I'm supposed to go into the office or not. I stand by the window. A woman peers at me. Then a man leers at me. But I can't tell who works here and who doesn't so I wait a little longer to be acknowledged. Finally, an older, fat, balding white guy in glasses and suspenders says "How can I help ya, darlin'?"
He talks just like the one guy from King of the Hill, so you can really only catch one out of every three or four words, but I'm pretty sure that's what he said.
I tell him what I need. He goes out through the back glass door to the garage and bellows until a younger, perkier version of himself comes into the shop to give me an estimate.
On the shop door is a sign that reads
"Rates:
$60/hr
If you watch us $70/hr
If you give us advice $80/hr
If you help us $90/hr
If you worked on it before you brought it to us $110/hr"

I like the younger man. He's nice. He goes around the shop looking up parts and labor in various binders, turning the pages with his pinkies because his hands are all greasy. I follow him around because I don't know where I should stand or if I should follow him and converse.
Meanwhile, the man in suspenders is behind the counter dumping out the fry baskets. I know that I will leave smelling like fish sticks and fried chicken.
I finally get an estimate. I leave my keys. Next to the door, above the trash can is a sign that says "Please do not spit in the trash bin - Flo"

So quaint

I like James' idea for letters to his old classmates. Except reading made me think that he was writing to someone who'd died or killed themselves. I don't know about writing letters to my old classmates, even ones they won't read. For one thing, I'm not that secure. For another thing I don't really have anything to say. If I wrote a letter it would suffice for it to be an open letter to old classmates in general. It might read:

I like following your updates on facebook. It allows me to know that we are all still out there doing stuff, but requires no actual effort or contact, 'cause who knows what we'd really have to say to one another anyway. I look at your pictures and am secretly jealous when they are of your trips to foriegn countries or raucous parties you have attended with your many, happy looking friends. But then I think that I too am well traveled. Quite possibly better than you. Then I think maybe I should post all my travel pics so that you might look at them, and not think I'm boring. Think that I've actually accomplished things. But then I never get around to it. I try to find pictures of me at wild parties surrounded by friends, but realize that they are few and far between.
I am heartened by the fact that many of you are working abroad or living in exciting sounding cities. That some of you even seem to have high-powered, well paying jobs like the folks on tv. The type of jobs that you never really seem to know anyone who actually has one. I think wall street workers and hedge fund managers are only allowed to know or socialize with one another.
I wish I would have gotten to know you better in school, but I was very shy and never sure how to go about it, and you probably wouldn't have wanted to hang out with me anyway. Or maybe you would have. It turns out I'm actually pretty cool, when you get to know me. If I had ever felt good enough about myself to just walk up and hang out with you, I would have shocked you with my epic coolness and entertainingness. Yeah, we probably could have been friends in real life, but now we can just be friends on facebook and forget all we used to know.


Yeah. That would probably suffice. If we start going back to elementary school I just have too many classmates. I attended 4 elementary schools. I suppose this means it's something I should think harder about, since I have forgotten so many of those people.