Sunday, October 28, 2007
sigh.
we hit an awkward stretch, there, for a minute. i felt like i knew it was going to hit eventually. no one moves this far this fast with so few resources--few! i should recalibrate. maybe just a smaller surfeit than i'd choose--without getting a little burnt at the edges. he can't find a job. and then he did, and through some awkward unfortunateness, lost it. i grew up pretty bougie, and there are times, times i'm not proud of, that it gets to me that my husband is a waiter. a waiter with dreams, but. i think it's more money than the discursive class associations, although i'm not innocent of that nose-in-the-air business--but if he was a waiter who made thirty-five thousand dollars a year, i'd breathe a lot easier. when we were dating, there were things we didn't have, couldn't do, because the monkey couldn't contribute to the paying for them. most people i know profess they couldn't live on 30k a year; now that my higher salary is neutralized and then some by the great income sucker of graduate school, i guess we're doing pretty well to be able to go to the movies once in a while.
but the sticker is the lack of drive to make it better. my lack of income is a planned, temporary thing; the monkey's sojourn in table-waiting hell is of his own devising. i know he doesn't like it, and i know he was meant for the stage and all that, but this is what you do: you roll your life according to the flavor combinations available to you. when you can't have as much as you want of the job you prefer, you investigate ways to provide a life you like while doing something you don't hate. i don't know if it's that putting effort into a non-theatre job is tantamount to admitting failure or if the whole situation is just too scary to contemplate. but it's important. it's too important for the head-in-the-sand business. myself, i like to think that jumping back into school is my way of helping. i took some time off what i love most in hopes that this is a way to earn more later and be far more satisfied with job crap. in the meantime, we're in debt. i want to have a baby. we both like travel. the monkey has no retirement savings, and appears to be wiping the counter at the soda fountain continuously, waiting to be discovered. this cannot continue, and i'm not the one in charge of change. i'm the one wringing her hands in the background, trying to offer sage and provocative counsel. and it's not working. not know what to do. end transmission.
but the sticker is the lack of drive to make it better. my lack of income is a planned, temporary thing; the monkey's sojourn in table-waiting hell is of his own devising. i know he doesn't like it, and i know he was meant for the stage and all that, but this is what you do: you roll your life according to the flavor combinations available to you. when you can't have as much as you want of the job you prefer, you investigate ways to provide a life you like while doing something you don't hate. i don't know if it's that putting effort into a non-theatre job is tantamount to admitting failure or if the whole situation is just too scary to contemplate. but it's important. it's too important for the head-in-the-sand business. myself, i like to think that jumping back into school is my way of helping. i took some time off what i love most in hopes that this is a way to earn more later and be far more satisfied with job crap. in the meantime, we're in debt. i want to have a baby. we both like travel. the monkey has no retirement savings, and appears to be wiping the counter at the soda fountain continuously, waiting to be discovered. this cannot continue, and i'm not the one in charge of change. i'm the one wringing her hands in the background, trying to offer sage and provocative counsel. and it's not working. not know what to do. end transmission.
