Thursday, April 23, 2015

Money Money Money Maaaanay

I've gone from never carrying a balance on a credit card to feeling really good that we have ENOUGH credit left on the credit card to get through the next month.

Not because we don't earn enough but because my husband, as an independent contractor, cannot seem to psychologically handle invoicing.

And I get it.  I have the opportunity to apply for a promotion at work, and I'm paralyzed. I've known for days, and I can't seem to get past the initial questions on the application.  There's something that kicks in about worthiness and having to prove it with a job application or an invoice or a summary report of your monthly activities.  We want to be appreciated and loved for who we are, not what we brag about on paper.  And maybe we feel entitled, too. We're awesome; why can't they just pay us for that?

But after four months of no salary coming in, it's worse than scary. It's crazy-making, rage-inducing, marriage-wrecking awful.  Not sure we'll survive even when the crisis passes.  There's just so much trust that's been lost and so much of my faith betrayed, wracked up like the credit cards with no minimum payments.

Anger the only dividends.

We barely touch anymore. Laugh infrequently.  Parenting and Hulu about all we share.

I might be more sad about that if I wasn't so angry all the time.  And tired of being angry all the time.

I want to be saving money for a house addition, and instead we're tens of thousands in the hole.

Invoices would put us right but not ahead.  And once we do get paid, we will likely owe much of it in taxes.  Which I'm happy to pay.


Maybe it will be enough to plan a trip to Chicago and Michigan this summer.  Maybe all will be right in a matter of another month, and I can breathe again and unknot the pretzel at my core.

Thursday, April 09, 2015

Well being

I don't know what it is tonight...

A presenter's high.  A bolt of coffee late in the day.  Exercise three days in a row. Drinking enough water, finally, throughout the day.  Enough sleep. A new regimen of Vitamin D kicking in.  Several good work days in a row where I've gotten SO.MUCH.DONE.  An evening without the grind of small children and cooking and bedtime.  A tiny amount of money in the bank at the moment. A reprieve from allergies.  Good music. Good friends.  Good life.  All of it together in a trough of life chaos.

But I'm feeling good tonight. Whole. Called to action.  So happy that I'm working on the project of a lifetime with co-workers I love and respect and care about.  Doing work that matters, will matter.  Precedent-setting, once-in-a-generation kind of work.  Work that takes me to the edge of my competence, that uses all my skills, that feels like I've been building up all of my experiences and education and talents for this.  An opportunity.  A challenge.  A blessing.

I've been thinking a lot about my high school boyfriend who took his own life a little over a year ago.  He was a tortured soul.  I loved his dark side, felt it complemented my goody two shoes shallowness in a way I knew was needed.  I think he was drawn to the commitment and effort I put into everything I do.  It complemented his own sporadic runs at greatness.  I miss him.  I miss the way he loved me and forgave me my earnestness.

And he foreshadowed all the other boyfriends in that same vein for me. The boys trying to be men sporadically.  The black hole love they offered and I fell into every time.

My marriage is the light side of that dark side moon.  Constant but unchanging and therefore often easy to overlook.  In my worst moments, all I can feel is its lifelessness.

But today, it just seemed like sunlight.  Impersonal, maybe, but ultimately life-sustaining. Warm.  Like a day in April when everything seemed full of Spring potential and latent energy.

I've done two events connected to my work project now that have felt FATED. Where I was so on, so connected with folks in the room, that nothing could fail.  Where the right words came and hit just the right note, set just the right tone.  Well received and reciprocated.

That is so magical.  I imagine it feels like preaching a sermon that resonates with people you are called to love.

I am a true believer, it appears.  And the optimism that once drew dark boys is now drawing community members into a story of hope and potential and opportunity.  And at just the right time.

Oh hallelujah.  Just the right time.  I am so grateful and so full of grace and so grateful to be so full of grace.