Today, I realized that I have very little pleasure in my life, and I haven't for a long time. I am in a financial mess because I'm waiting for my husband, the madman, to fix himself and get back to work. I've waited too long. It's time to start fixing my financial mess myself.
I have a lovely, artsy, freelance and fun job, but it's a job that just barely pays my bills. I get my paycheck, I pay my bills, and then the money is gone until the next paycheck. If he would work, then there'd be enough money for some joy in my life: some yoga classes, some nice meals out, a movie now and then, an expensive coffee, a new pair of shoes. Right now, there is nothing extra. He's not going to work. I'm going to have to find a new job.
I'd thought of having to get a new job before, but it felt like something I wasn't ready for yet. Today, it came to me with that pre-packaged, fully formed, fully processed feeling that means it's not my decision anymore. What praying I've been doing to try to figure out how I'm going to get out of my financial bind has worked: I'm going to start looking for another job. I'm going to find a job that will give me some paid time off, some health insurance, and all those other wonderful accoutrements of adulthood.
Even if I get a lame-ass job, a suit job with shitty hours and a shitty boss and all kind of shittiness, it will be a job that will pay my bills, and I'll stop dawdling in this desperate financial quagmire. I'll get myself back in control of my life, and I'll fix my house up a bit so that I can sell it in a few years, and then, I'll go back to school.
Something inside me feels pleased to have this plan. A plan is good, and it's my plan that has nothing to do with him. He's welcome to come along for the ride, I guess. Tonight, he's welcome to come along for the ride. I'm tired of spinning my wheels here, and I hope that making some moves will mean that there will be good things coming.
In doing my fourth step inventory, I've realized that one of my biggest character defects is impetuosity. I'm hoping that having a plan with a bit of scope...I'll get a lame grown-up job and keep it for a few years until I get my finances squared away and am able to sell my house, and then I'll go back to school...will keep me from suddenly deciding to become an astronaut or a ballerina or a lawyer or a flight attendant or any of the myriads of things I often scheme up when I'm feeling desperate and in need of an escape. I don't want to escape anymore. I want to change, but I want to change in a way that's lasting, permanent, and right. I want to grow, not just run away.