Wednesday, March 12, 2008

late night dumping

It's late. The tiny snores from the bedroom behind me let me know that my kids are tucked safely in their beds, resting peacefully. It's a beautiful sound. The larger snore coming from down the hall, while not as beautiful, lets me know that my husband, king of the "worrying never solved anything" mantra is asleep, despite the current events in our life that have left me awake.

Instead of sleep, I find myself in a late-night pity party. Instead of being tucked in to my nice warm bed with my space heater of a husband beside me, I sit, freezing on the sofa, too lazy to turn off the overhead fan that spins above.

My mind wanders to everything that is wrong in my life right now.

I haven't had a period in over three months. Which, sadly, does not mean pregnancy but instead, my infertility issues are still a huge elephant in the room. Not getting any better, but not worse either. In some ways, I'm okay with the current state of things in this department. Only at times like these do I even let it bother me. Most of the time, it's just a fact of my current life. Not able to have (any more) kids - check.

The hives are at an all time high. My hands are swollen and in pain with hives affecting every joint possible. Making it very hard to type, cook, and just about anything else one would use their hands for. I'm sick of these damn things. I'm sick of downing bottle after bottle of chlorotabs only to realize they are loosing their effect. Meaning my only other option is benedryl, a drug that knocks me on my ass with every dose. A dose that has to be doubled to even help at all. From head to toe, I am one giant hive. No relief is in sight. No reason for their appearance. No cure. And worst of all, not a single inch closer to this entire thing being over with.

Now for the real kicker . . . .

Tim lost his job earlier last week. It's a long drawn out story that is too much of a headache to share. Suffice it to say, he tried to do the right thing for himself and his family, but in the end, was fired because of it. While a horrible person continues to work there instead. We've had phone call after phone call from other management who were sad to see him go. Tim can't go anywhere without his crew stopping him to let him know that he was their favorite manager. He is greatly missed.

I try to stay positive. Tim had grown to hate that job anyway. Mainly because of his current situation with the management team, and all the unfairness that always comes with working with too many family members, none of which are your own. He was already looking for a new job. This will just give him the boost he needs to really find something he's happy with.

Then reality sets in. We live in a small town. Jobs are limited. Especially in today's world. He's put in application after application. Sent off about a hundred resumes. And no one has called. Every day I frantically check the phone, in hopes of an interested employer, only to get greatly discouraged when nothing is looking back at me. And this is how I'm feeling. I can only imagine that it's about a million times worse for my dear husband.

Money is super tight right now. We are living on my paycheck alone. A paycheck, that before went to the fluff of the household. Money we should have been saving. But, instead frivolously spent, leaving our savings accounts in a non-existent form and my stress level through the roof. Luckily, we did do the smart thing and use his last paycheck to pay rent up through the end of next month. So at least we'll have a roof over our heads.

The worst part about all of this is that I'm taking my stress out on my husband. A man who, is the definition of Southern in so many ways. He takes everything one day at a time. Believes worrying about things never gets you anywhere. Is able to actually NOT worry. Finds sleep easily, while I struggle to shut off my brain. Believes that things really will work themselves out. Approaches life in a whole other direction than I do. I go after things. I make things happen. Tim, on the other hand, waits for things to happen. He waits for the calls to come in. The job offers to start. He is a talented man. A man who is always well received in any workplace. His resume speaks volumes about his experiences and skills. He is confident that he will find a job. In his mind, it's about the search. About finding that one place that wants him. Who is willing to call him. Interested in what he has to say. Interested in paying him what he wants to be paid.

In my mind, he needs to call them. Needs to be persistent. Push the envelope, if you will. In my mind he isn't doing enough. And I've told him that. I've accused him of not wanting to find a new job. Of enjoying his vacation time here at home, while I put in extra hours at my job, trying to make the most of my paycheck. Deep down, I know it isn't true. It's just a matter of how we approach these kinds of situations. From completely different angles. We are different. None better than the other. And my nagging and harassment isn't going to help anything. I need to learn that. Understand that. Step aside and assist him instead of making his life more hellatious.

Unfortunately, stepping aside and backing down are things I don't do very well. Not for lack of trying, just lack of any reasonable skill in those departments.