Friday, February 12, 2010
These shoes were made for walking...
Another problem these days is trying to decide what to do about finances. I was out of work last year for almost six months. I went back part-time in January, but thus far I've only been able to go one day per week. Our financial situation isn't one that will allow me to remain on the employment fence much longer. Actually, I think I have to be off of the fence by the end of this weekend.
It may be so hard to get my butt into the office every week because the extreme stress that sent me over the edge is probably always in the back of my mind. There is something in my head that just refuses to listen to reasoning even when I know I'm really going to be in trouble with my other half if I don't go into work. I have often thought that shame might play a part in how I feel about my failures or when I can't meet expectations. I remember specific incidents of shame being the disciplinary vehicle my mom used. Guess it carried over. It's either fear of the stress or shame, or it may be a combination of the two, but I'm not doing a very good job of getting past it.
I really liked my job. I really like the people I worked for. But I couldn't take the stress of being the only other employee doing all the admin and client paperwork. They admitted on more than one occasion that they needed at least two people and maybe three. They knew I was working too many hours and never making a dent in the stacks. We just couldn't ever find anyone. The one person we hired stayed only a few months. They hired someone else after I had been gone about two months. Now I'm more of a gopher, trying to help get things caught up. I can make my own schedule and am not responsible for any of the day-to-day stuff. It should be a no-brainer, so why am I so hesitant to go back? Maybe I should go be a greeter at Walmart or get a part-time job at the mall. I couldn't work at a bookstore, clothing store, shoe store or pet store. I would simply hand my check back to the owner on payday. That doesn't leave me many no-brainer possibilities for employment. I don't want to work somewhere that I will get so involved and feel so responsible. Gets me into too much trouble. I would love to do something at home, but I have no self-motivation right now. And there is still the issue of making a difference whatever I do. I saw an ad on TV recently that advised doing marketing surveys online that paid "thousands" of dollars. Yeah. What I really wish is that I could get paid for cleaning up my house. It has suffered the past year right along with me.
During tea today, my friends gave me a bit of advice. Alice said she wouldn't recommend falling into a hole, but she did admit that if I was in a place where everyone was mad, mad, mad, I might feel right at home. I'm thinking that the most important thing about their experiences is that neither one of them had a need for cash. Not in Wonderland or Oz. Something to consider.
Wonder how far it is to Yellow Brick Road. If I don't start making a monetary contribution to the home fund soon, I'm gonna be sent packing.
(Image used in this post is by artist Margaret Teichert and is entitled "The Yellow Brick Road." It can be found at margaretteichert.com.)