Back to Reality

I was standing in line at a fast food restaurant this weekend (several times, actually) and realized that I didn’t want to be there. It was the strangest feeling -knowing that I was about to order food I didn’t really want to eat, because I didn’t have the time to go home and cook a meal for myself or my family. I wish that changing my life and my body was as easy as wanting to.

With all the running around I have to do on any given day (between my own classes, the kids’ schedules and my sporadic work schedule) I have become dependent on food that I can acquire and/or eat while driving from one place to the next. I often don’t feel like cooking when I am home, only because I’m tired at that point and just want to rest from all the running around. It is a condition that is both my own fault and a result of the actions I’ve had to take to keep my family living in the current splendor (/sarcasm) we enjoy today.

Part of me wants to just sell everything we own (for whatever meager price we can get) and run away to somewhere else. Starting over always sounds so exciting, except when I think about how little opportunity there is left for someone who’s been a SAHM and (at times) ┬ástudent for the last 10 years.

Without a degree or an established skill (writing? pfft.) to tout, I’m left only with my spotty and often times laughable job history to sell myself to employers. Top that off with the fact that I have a family that at some point is probably going to cause me to need personal time, and that younger person with little work ethic and even less experience is looking pretty good. If it weren’t for my ability to construct a good story, I’d look pretty lousy on paper. This isn’t to say the story is untrue… far from it.

The fact of the matter is that I have quite a few skills that an employer would be grateful for, if he or she could see me in action. The problem, however, is that these skills usually come secondary to the paper that verifies I have the chutzpah to stick to an academic program for 4 years or that some muckity-muck has christened me “able” to perform them.

School, as always, is a source of great enjoyment and far greater uncertainty for me. The financial factor, it seems, should be something you get credits for -since it usually involves so much MORE intense study, fortitude and perseverence to get loans for school. Even worse, once you’ve acquired funding you had better truck all the way through that bachelors, because taking a break will only make it that much harder to get back in.

I guess what I’m saying is that the weekend is almost over, and that old feeling of dread mixed with unfathomable hopelessness is creeping back into my heart. I don’t want to open the pile of letters with three difference conflicting messages about my loan consolidation. I’m even less excited about the Bursar’s office writing to tell me I won’t be enrolling next semester until I cough up around $5,000 for tuition and the first two months of child care I’ve already used.

Monday’s a holiday, it’s not even here yet, and I already don’t want to think about it.


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