8:43 a.m. - 2007-04-20
Betty Decides, Maybe
It��s one of those points in my life where I am doing a lot of thinking, trying to decide the best plan for me. Job dissatisfaction has reared its ugly head again and I have been doing a lot of soul searching looking for clues to tell me what to do. My job is OK. It is safe and respectable, at times rewarding and I have a lot of freedom to do things the way I want to as long as the job gets done. I love the history of the place and the original mission statement that was written over a hundred years ago. I love the people I work with who are on my level of the organizational chart. The perks are good, although we keep loosing a few every year. I do not like the fact that because of my competence I am forced to take on more and more responsibility and get, on average, a 20-cent raise every January while there are those who have my very same title with the word ��Executive�� in front of it who giggle their way through the day and make twice what I do and drive sports cars into the parking lot. Meanwhile a good portion of my week is spent dogging after these people double checking that they have done their work properly so I don��t get the blame for the mistakes. Oy.
Here are the facts so far. I am responsible for the expense of the polliwogs�� education and I have three more years of indentured servitude to get the last two graduated from their fancy, private, college prep academy. I am still convinced that this is a good thing. I have provided for them a very strong base from which they may jump into higher education with, hopefully, amazing scholarships so that the Bachelor��s degree is paid for. So far #1 blew off college and is making more money than I am working at an internet service provider. This is the one who was a high school honors student and is an unbelievably talented writer, poet and artist. She is constantly angry with me because she thinks I think she is a failure. We had a long talk on her birthday and I told her I didn��t think of her as a failure I thought of myself as a failure for not doing whatever I was supposed to do to make her successful. Martyred Motherdom is such a wonderful place.
#2 was another honors student who managed to get college credits in high school and pull a 4.0 out of her senior year. She was awarded a full scholarship worth about $100,000 to a fancy east coast, New England university and has promptly thrown it away. It seems that the university doesn��t take lightly to students who spend their time drinking coffee from Dunkies, going to movies and having weekly Grey��s Anatomy parties in front of the big screen TV in the common room. I guess she forgot that she was there to go to class and turn in homework, that the university trustees give free rides to students who perform at promised high levels. She is coming back home in a few weeks and I am again asking myself, what the hell happened here?
I have rearranged my plan with the last two, encouraging them to apply to state schools, so that when they are finished with high school I can be free to move on to other things. Which brings me back to the question of what do I do with my life? I had thought for a while about going to nursing school. With the degree I have I could finish an RN in 2 years. Lots of money with that option but there is the point that the sight of bloody injuries makes me squicky. I could go back to the big, brown package delivery company I worked for before I came here. Lots of money with that option, too, but that would bump me back to a only a week of vacation the first year and I��d be leaving 4 weeks of vacation, 30 sick days accrued, 2 weeks paid time off at Christmas and 10 paid holidays. I think when it comes down to it, I��m really lazy. I love all the time off from the office and I��m not sure if I want to be in the position of being responsible for another life and I don��t really care about importing vibrating panties from China any more.
So, what do I love to do? I love to bake bread. I love to cook fabulous meals. I love to plan parties. I have been working with a charming caterer who has been helping us out with some dinners at work. I��m trying to work up the courage to ask her if I could come and help in her in the kitchen some time. I don��t think I want to own my own business as I have no head for profit margins and the like. I would like to test my mettle in a professional kitchen, it would let me know if I��m really as good as I think I am. Not so much money but I think it would make me happy.
Here is my list of life goals. I guess if I put them in print I��ll have to get serious about crossing some of them off.
�X Getting the polliwogs either working or in school and out of my house
�X Paying off the last of our debt
�X Installing an endless pool off the deck so I can swim laps nekkid
�X Buy the Bass Tracker pontoon boat we were admiring a few weeks ago and spend weekends on the state lakes
�X Travel
�X Spend endless days with Ed
�X Travel
�X Spend endless days with Ed
�X Travel
�X Spend endless days with Ed
�X Travel
�X Spend endless days with Ed
I suppose the thing I need to decide is if I am willing to spend years working at a job I don��t like but I��m making lots of money. That��ll get me to the travel part of my list quicker but what if I have a stress induced stroke in the meantime? Or, do I do something to make me happy and take twice as long to get to the end of my list? That��ll get me a stress induced stroke because of all the worry about debt. I hate making decisions.
On a completely different topic�Khere��s my entry for today��s schmoop-o-meter�KEd tells the lovely story of how we met here EdBigHead. I must say that I did pull off that maneuver with aplomb nearly unheard of in a seventeen year old. I can��t remember how many years later I confessed that the whole thing was contrived, me the damsel in distress and he the brown-eyed knight come to help me get home. 29 years later we��re still playing our parts, a little older and a lot wiser. He has saved me from my own stupidity more times than I care to mention and he thinks I��m beautiful and that��s all that matters.
