Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Here is my Love and Anger

I'm making him a mix tape, and without really thinking about it, I add the Indigo Girls' Keeper of My Heart. It has to go in, some subconscious part of me reasons, because if he's to know me, then he needs to know this song.

And you see all my life
I've painted with anger's brush

And in looking over the song list and seeing that one song, one that I've long felt defined me, I stumble upon a roadblock on this journey of building a relationship at this point in my (our) life: the past, and the role it plays in this (new, fragile, thrilling) present.

Some things
I hold too tightly

How do you walk into something new at a point like this, when you have half a lifetime of loves, broken hearts, histories? I look at my music collection and think about all songs I've loved over the years and wonder how to share these - and how he can share his with me - when we've dedicated and been dedicated so many of them over the years, when some songs belong - consciously or not - to others. Neither one of us would be insincere in dedicating a song that didn't genuinely remind one of the other; but this sharing - for two people who love music so much, whose lives have been so defined by specific songs - it's bound to be a delicate matter. At least for me, because I will wonder about what form those songs took on for him in another life. Maybe it's good for me that while many songs have meaning to me, they're not attached to any one person, nor am I reminded of anyone in particular; songs in that category are few (and not anything I currently listen to).

But what's not good for me is the way that thinking about this music thing lately opens the door and makes my mind wander into the past, his past. This is really a good moment for my exes to pop up and vouch for me on this one, because "his past" is always a source of insecurity for me. It is no more complicated than this for me: the fear that his past - any part of it - was better (happier, more fulfilling, funner, more meaningful) than anything he could have with and feel for me. Early on, before anyone can reasonably make such an assessment, the fear is more that whatever it was he loved most, that is where his head and heart are permanently stuck. This worry doesn't, like, kill me, and certainly a person's actions can go very far in ameliorating that awful feeling in my stomach, but it's a quiet fear that stresses me out. And yes, I know it's silly, and I know that it's my vulnerability trying to best me, but there it is. It's a fear.

You see now
These are my gods
These are my scars

And bringing this fear into my present day, it's a strange feeling. I haven't felt this in so long, and even now, it's not like it used to be. Perhaps time, maturity and my own experiences (and certainly, knowing where this is rooted in me) have given it some perspective, so that I feel more understanding about our individual situations and understand the need for patience and openness and honesty and flexibility. Is it normal that in our conversations, sharing anecdotes, "we" comes up enough times that I take notice - and we are not speaking about each other? It makes my gut clench a bit even as I know that when you're over 30 and have left behind an entire lifetime, this is bound to happen.


In time, this fear will pass. I know better. And I know that what I have in front of me is too good and unique to leave in the hands of my fears, to hold back on sharing the songs I love so much.

I contemplate Keeper of My Heart. How much is it still me? A bit. Some. Most definitely, there is still some of this in me.

Well these arms are burning
But they're open wide

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Posted by Tere @ 9/30/2009   | | | links to this post

Sunday, September 27, 2009

The Plan that Wasn't, and I'm O.k. with That

At lunch this last week, I was updating a close friend on the latest news in my life. Listening to what was going on, she interjected, "so much for your Angelina Plan."

Ah, my Angelina Plan. When my marriage ended, as I thought about what realistic options I had (and I tend to skew towards "utterly negative" and "fatalistic" in my view of things), I came up with what I felt was the most realistic and practical plan for myself, and I'd shared it with close friends: the Angelina Plan.

Do you remember Angelina Jolie in her post-Billy Bob, pre-Brad days? She was a single mom with a small child, and surely, as I understand things now, she must have realized that being a devoted mom and working woman conflicted in some ways with being able to be in a good relationship. So she did what many raised an eyebrow at, but which I, being in those same shoes, saw as a brilliant compromise: she took on her lovers, met them at her convenience, and kept it separate from the rest of her life. That, I realized, was a perfect plan for me.

So I told my friends I intended to pull an Angelina as long as I could: take care of my womanly needs without developing relationships or really letting the guy(s) in; in other words, as isolated as possible from my *real* life. It really made a lot of sense; it allowed for fun during times I did not have my son while allowing me to focus on the things I really cared about (my son, my family, my friends, my job, my interests) the rest of the time.

The problem with the Angelina Plan as it applied to me, though, was that it failed to account for one important thing: I am in essence a relationship person. And it's hard to flip from casual encounter to casual encounter when what you really want is to come home to one really special person.

So I spent some time touting my plan even as I was told that it would work for two seconds because I was really a relationship person. And I considered this before explaining that I was no longer that person because it'd gotten me nowhere, and it was no longer worth my trouble. And then... then I just got caught in my life and somehow concluded that more than wanting to be a player, I didn't want to deal with someone else's shit, and it was best to just leave that aspect of my life alone. So honestly? I forgot all about my Angelina Plan as I faced my grim reality: I am a relationship person. Indeed.

As much as I've hated to admit this to myself, the plain truth is that I enjoy being in a relationship and basically believe that my life is meant to be shared in that way. I have no problem being faithful, I'm not scared of any kind of intimacy, and I'm all about the effort you have to put in in order to get something satisfying and meaningful.

And while I can go on and on about all the awesome things I bring into a relationship and explain what I hope to get from him and gush about the infinite amount of things that make having that one great person so fun and sweet and exciting and get into a whole discourse that lays out my philosophy about romantic love (and yes, I have one), there's a whole other thing going on here. Because all this aside, the truth is that I can't function in any effective way unless I'm in a relationship. It's pathetic.

My car. That's a good place to start. I can get the oil changed because I have that sticker on my upper left windshield telling me to do it. And I can get gas because the light comes on and panic sets in as I imagine myself stranded in the middle of rush-hour traffic. But I can't do anything else. I can't wash it or get a tune-up or even refill the washer fluid. Seriously; I've had no washer fluid for about nine months now.

And light bulbs? Forget it. I can (I have) live in the dark for an endless amount of weeks, as if the lights would miraculously start working on their own.

And then there's the garbage. I can get the bag out to the big trash can outside with no problem, but that's where it ends. The recycling piles up. The big bin gets so full the lid doesn't properly close.

These examples - my failure to maintain my car and to basically live in dark filth - it's all because I forget. That's it. There's nothing more to it. I simply have no mind for these things, no ability to remember to buy washer fluid or light bulbs, and I'm incapable of remembering the trash days and hauling the bins out for pick up. These things, they just repeatedly slip out of my radar.

And this is why I'm in the end a relationship person.

I don't say this because a guy would take care of these things for me. Although it's true that chores would be divided and that I totally see garbage and car duties as belonging to a guy (I'm sexist that way), I think that having the light bulb, washer fluid and garbage issues collide into one ineffective mess just shows that my brain is programmed to handle life as part of a couple. Left on my own, this is what happens (and believe me when I say that these examples just scratch the surface). But as part of a couple, it's like my brain snaps back in place, and I'm able to remember all the things that need to get done, and I'm able to cook full meals, and things are generally far more organized. The sudden awareness that I even have this problem? My conscious efforts to remember and get things done? That's proof right there of what being in a relationship does to me: it makes my brain work.

Does that even make sense? I can't help but think that people fit into a variation of these two camps: those who thrive in relationships and those who fall apart in them.

I belong to the former. I do. My Angelina Plan will not be, at least not as far as I can see. And it's o.k.; I can't force myself to be what I'm ultimately not.

Now I just need to get that washer fluid, change my light bulbs and post a note to myself, listing the garbage pick-up days. In the end, coupled or not, it all has to get done.

The dishes, though, that's a whole other story.

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Posted by Tere @ 9/27/2009   | | | links to this post

Thursday, September 24, 2009


Hehehe - it's been like Lifetime TV around here lately. I swear, I still have a sense of humor! Some things, though, I gotta see in writing to really understand them or deal with them or whathaveyou.

So, yeah. I wanna tell you about how being jobless has made me reevaluate a lot of things, and what I would like for myself career-wise; and I also wanna tell you about how being jobless and spending days upon days in my house (the house I may be losing soon!) has totally warped my mind (something about feeling unsure, in limbo, discouraged, while watching horrible daytime TV is responsible for this) so that I feel pretty discombobulated and overwhelmed by a ton of random things I need to do (get that second bedroom cleaned up; do all my reading for school; get ready for massive garage sale).

The thing is, I really feel so clouded in the brain that I can't focus on any one thing. I've been like this for over a week now, and it's frustrating. This is not the time for my mind to fail me and freeze up. And while I don't feel angry or upset or anything negative, I understand that the amount of things before me are crippling me to the point of inaction. NOT GOOD. Not good at all. This happens to me from time to time. Now's one of those times.

Some good stuff's happened this week on the job front that should help clear some things up, and hopefully get me out of this stupor. And I know I need to (for my own sake) get into some of the deeper thoughts that I've been running in my head since the job loss. But! Right now I have to focus on this quiz I have in one of my classes. This is my first quiz in about 11 years, so, you know, I'm a little nervous. I don't know what to expect and don't yet feel like I'm back in student mode. And while I love the subject matter and feel like I really get it, there's little guidance from he prof and so I really just don't know what I'm walking into.

So, yeah. Wish me luck.


Posted by Tere @ 9/24/2009   | | | links to this post

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Deep Thoughts by Tere

I've been in a funny place these last couple of months. This new life of mine is very much my own, and I'm happy with it. There has been, among all the other more negative, sadder feelings, a deep sense of gratitude for whatever it is that's allowed me to believe and feel and know that although my life did not pan out as I wanted it to, it is still a good one, and many wonderful things lie ahead for me.

Time and distance have done a lot in offering me a great deal of perspective: on my marriage - what it was and why it was that way, and my role in all of it - and on myself - who I've become and what I want out of myself and my life. And this is good; I've needed it.

But even as I feel more settled here, there are still things that feel like transitions, moments where I feel in-between two lives, and my mind sometimes pauses and catches that moment, a recognition that my old life is further and further from me and the resulting feeling is, most times, bittersweet.

I see now things I couldn't see before, and so many emotions that I carried with me for so long seem distant. Even the ending, the time when the life I knew imploded and those awful, awful months followed - the intensity is gone. There are quick flashes where I'm suddenly aware - wow, that's not my life anymore; wow, what a crazy-ass year I've had; wow, 10 years down the drain and I'm divorced - but they last nanoseconds, slipping from me before I can even touch them.

I think about the choices we have, when life changes so abruptly. When you get past that initial shock, that feeling of being punched square in the gut - you have choices. Do you hold on and insist that he was the one, and there will be never be another? Do you stay put, holding on to the memories, building a new life around a past that time has anyway altered? Do you allow the rage to take over and drive you to hurt him - intensely - till your own pain is satisfied? Do you push it all away and refuse to deal with any of it? Do you allow yourself to believe that after the darkness there will indeed be light, and it will be beautiful?

When the dust finally settled for me, there was one startling feeling, one thing that I still sometimes feel a jolt over if it crosses my mind: the life I'd chosen was not the life meant for me. It was not the thing that was right for me. That's it right there: it was not right for me. And that was such a difficult thing to fully accept, to believe, because it was something I'd chosen and tried so hard to make it work, make it good. But considering that the marriage had ended, what else is there to believe? Clearly, I was wrong about the depth and strength I'd prescribed to that relationship. And resisting against such a stark reality didn't make much sense.

It was a hard thing to wrap my mind around, that I was wrong, and what I expected to be, to just be and stay, was not the thing, after all, that would last or sustain me. Or the place where I would stay. And I don't mean this like in that immediate way - relationship's gone bust, it's over, gotta start over. I mean it in a much deeper way, touching on the things that brought us together and that made us stay together, and in a way that extends beyond those first months after the ending, the first year, and settles into you. It wasn't just that we couldn't make it work; it wasn't just that shit happened and we ended. It was that - if it ended, and there was no reconciliation, and there was light and hope after all the pain and sadness - then that was just not for me. It wasn't my destiny; it wasn't the thing that would never let me go; it wasn't the end of hope and beauty and - dare I say it? - love. It is both sad and exhilarating.

So whatever comes from here - it will be mine to fully embrace. I can walk into it openly and freely. I can let my pain and sadness have their space because they are now as much a part of me as anything else. And I can accept this new life, let its wonders move me - and I can dive right in.


Posted by Tere @ 9/22/2009   | | | links to this post

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Until Now

There are things that stay with me longer after I write about them. There are themes that I return to, because clearly, they haunt me.

I don't know why, when my marriage ended, I expected (not thought, but full-on expected) that I would be averse to romantic love. Whatever scars that situation left me with, I did not disbelieve in love, or think love was a great big pile of crap. Quite the opposite, actually. I came away from my marriage believing even more in real love, one that is committed and intimate and honest. And yet, I did think that my life was too complicated - and I am too demanding a woman - to really have any room for that kind of love. More than that, I felt very keenly the vulnerability of being someone who demands nothing less than that kind of love. What had it gotten me, really? I felt like I had some crappy choices: stick to my standards and perpetually feel vulnerable and slightly scared, or settle for something mediocre that at least wouldn't rock the boat. I didn't want either one.

There's no room - not in me, not in my life - I told myself many, many times. And knowing what I knew - that I expect a partner to be as committed and honest as I am, that I have a small son that many would view as baggage, that I have had to deal with the damage my marriage wrecked on so many small parts of myself - it seemed obvious to me that no one would seriously want to take me (and eventually, Max) on, and so it would just be smart to avoid situations that would affect me in any deep, meaningful way. I have not been willing to take the risk, to put in real effort, to open myself up. It just didn't seem worth it. What's more, I didn't really believe there were any quality partners out there, men that were emotionally stable and level-headed and over their shit and kind - and so why bother to desire or look for what does not exist?

So why did I continue to want that? When I wrote this, however overly simplistic I was being, I meant it. Why did I find myself some nights thinking that having something like this, having the kind of relationship I wanted, would be worth it, worth my efforts, worth the risk, worth everything? How and why and where did I create this personal conflict where it almost felt wrong to want and hope for love of my own, yet it's exactly what I've wanted?

I think about all the times people have told me that a great guy would come into my life and change everything, and how I felt embarrassed and even ashamed of it. For me, their kindness clearly ignored the plain truth: that I am not a woman who would be that lucky. And from there, the sense of shame would deepen because of another truth: that for me, being with a loving, mature, wonderful man would be... well, everything. A source of fulfillment and joy and peace.

Ugh. I hate how weak it makes me feel to admit this, to not be able to deny that I want this. What's more, to know that I can handle this, that I know I have what it takes to be a part of something good and fulfilling and sweet. As clearly as I've known that I would be o.k. on my own, just Max and me, I know now that even so, I want romantic love. And I keep hoping that I've been wrong, that I do deserve this kind of love, that I would be so lucky, that I would indeed know it and cherish it and bring someone else happiness.

That this is important now is directly related to that bomb that recently went off in my life. I haven't had any real reason think about this issue, until now. I haven't had any pressing need to care about this, until now. And while I certainly have given it thought (see here and here for reference), and I've had days where it bothered me more than it should have, it didn't really matter. Until now.

Now, it matters. So much. And I care. So, so much. Everything's changed. And I'm choosing to believe that I can have this and make it something beautiful.

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Posted by Tere @ 9/16/2009   | | | links to this post

Monday, September 14, 2009

This Morning's Conversation, or Ways to Kick Off Monday Morning

The scene: my car, 8 a.m. this morning, driving Max to school.

Max: Oh no, mommy!!

Me: What?

Max: I'm so sad and can't go to school!

Me: Por que? (why?)

Max: I don't have my makeup!

Me: You need makeup for school?

Max: Yes. I don't have any makeup on. And you don't either, mommy. We have to go back home and get some.

Me: Yeah, I don't have any makeup on, and I don't think you need any, either.

Max: But mommy, I need makeup. Do girls or boys wear makeup?

Me: Well... mostly, it's girls who wear makeup, but some boys do, too.

Max: So girls and boys wear makeup?

Me: Mainly girls. But yes, some boys.

Max: Ok, mommy, I don't need makeup today.

Wonder if he'll need it tomorrow?


Posted by Tere @ 9/14/2009   | | | links to this post

Friday, September 11, 2009


It's your smile that kills me. That, and the way you laugh, so easily and heartily. Oh, and your affection, given so freely, so consistently, so sweetly.

For every thing you do that drives me crazy, there is always the other side: the way you hug me and kiss me and tell me that I make you happy, and the mischievous glint in your eye when you realize you have me right where you want me.

You are, my son, so quirky and sweet and bright that I can't help but beam over you. I wonder - stupidly, because as your mother I'm capable of no other thought - how anyone could know you and not love you. You are this unique little thing, so much your own person; and the way you continually open my eyes to the world and make life interesting and fun and moving is something for which I will always be grateful. You are pain. You are exhaustion. You are elation and pureness and joy.

I think about our life this last year, and how far we've come as a team. We struggle, you and I, because our temperaments clash, and I'm not always as patient as I should be. And yet, we have a home now that is much like what I wanted for us: generally peaceful, punctuated with raucous bouts of chaos. We are easy with one another, and every time I see how comfortable you are with me, in our home, how confidently you move about, I feel that maybe here there is indeed some stability, that I have not yet failed you completely.

I don't know, Maxi, how we survived this last year. But we did, and if I can dare say this out loud, we've survived with minimal scarring. And now, from this vantage point that is so much healthier, so much more sane, my thoughts are about all that lies ahead, about this new life we've made for ourselves and the way it continues to unfold in beautiful ways.

In a year of hardship, we are still so blessed. You are strong and resilient and smart and happy and healthy, a pre-schooler who loves school and his friends and who never fails to greet and chat with people. You have given me the strength I needed to forge ahead, to get out of bed on those days when I felt like the world would swallow me, to smile and laugh when minutes before I'd been crying, to find happiness and peace in the here and now.

Happy Birthday, monkey. For you, for all that you are and all that I see you becoming, I will always be grateful. I wish you a beautiful day and a wonderful year. You are my heart. You are my everything.


Last year and the year before, because they still hold true.

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Posted by Tere @ 9/11/2009   | | | links to this post

Wednesday, September 09, 2009

Tying Up Some Loose Ends

I'm kinda smacking myself around right now, because I want to get to some stuff here that's important to me, that I want to write about, but I feel like I can't just yet. Things have happened recently that have made me stop and look at my life in a whole new way.

Well, o.k., I'm not knee-deep in that kind of introspection yet, but that's what I'm at the edge of. This is the thing: over the last five days, I've been the happiest I've felt in so long. So, so long. Since my marriage ended. Honestly, since even before that. I can't put words together yet to fully express how wonderful this feels, and how much I'm hoping that all the things that make this happiness so right will be the very things that will make it last.

But before I can settle into this new phase of my life, there are loose ends that need to be tied up; and honestly, I'm not sure how to do it. I'm not good at updates, at keeping story lines going, unless something specific about the situation calls for it. At the same time, I have to accept that when I share information here and something changes, I need to say something or else things won't make sense; and anyway, I'll just keep carrying it with me.

So you know that I lost my job; and you know that I've gone back to school. With that and all my other randomness, I haven't had much of a mind to tell you that Prof Pineapple and I didn't really get off the ground, and that honestly, I'm o.k. with this. It was so, so nice to have him back in my life, but the truth is that the comfort of the past doesn't translate to something vibrant and viable in the present. We knew from the beginning that there would be some issues we'd have to deal with (logistical stuff, not interpersonal stuff), and I think that between that and the different places we're in in our lives, there was nowhere to go. I came to understand that the reality of this situation clashed with the very specific criteria I've set for myself when it comes to allowing someone new into my life, and... I don't know, we couldn't get past a certain point, and it wasn't enough to build something on.

I very clearly know what I want and need from a partner, and there's no settling for less than that. There's very little to say; the important thing is that it became clear that his effort was not something I could count on, and at the same time, I did not want to beat my head up against the wall over it. So.... that's that.

And it's o.k., I swear. This was a good experience, a good way for me to step back into the dating world. And really, he's an awesome person. There's no bad blood here or anything like that.

But now, I really need to move past this. Not just because this is done, but because that bomb that recently went off in my life is so freaking me out with its awesomeness that I can't focus on anything else.

That I won't get into details right now is something you'll have to forgive me for. It's not that I'm trying to mess with you (that was only with my back-to-school news), or to create drama. It's just that this is such a delicate matter, that I have to be as wise as possible about it. I mean, it involves my heart, people. And nothing besides Max has involved my heart in so very long now that I just have to respect this, you know? Moreover, it potentially involves someone else's heart - and I can't take that lightly, can't let my own excitement override the fragility of something that has completely shaken everything about my life and moved me in a way I feared I'd never be moved again.

Let's leave it here for now. There will be more at another time.

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Posted by Tere @ 9/09/2009   | | | links to this post

Monday, September 07, 2009

Please Excuse Me, I'm Unable to Make Any Sense Today, and For the Next Few Days

You'll have to forgive me: a bomb just went off in my life.

Not an awful, devastating or anything negative kind of bomb; but a bomb nonetheless.

At least, that's what it feels like. Maybe. I'm not sure if that's accurate. It's not like I've ever actually been around a bomb, much less had one go off near me.

See this? This rambling? It's all I've got. That, and an insane amount of laughing. I'm also seeing stars and those little chirping blue birds that every cartoon character sees when an anvil falls on them. Or a bomb goes off near them. Also, my ears are ringing.

Oh my g-d. Holy hell. It's not good to write in the midst of metaphorical bombings. Clearly, it's not a good idea, what with this crazy-ass rambling and the way I can't focus and - wow - I can't go on.

In other words, it's quite possible that I'll need a couple of days to recover and get my brain in order before I can come back here and be normal, or any reasonable proximity to that.

Let's hope so, anyway.


Posted by Tere @ 9/07/2009   | | | links to this post

Saturday, September 05, 2009

Four is on the Way

I'm trying to wrap my mind around the fact that next week I will be the mother of a four-year-old. Damn, four. I've been looking at him these last days, privately saying good-bye to the three-year-old, as traces of what four will be like pop up here and there.

A couple of days ago, he made a surprisingly witty joke. It was sudden, like it hit him in a flash, in the middle of us chatting; and it was so clever and funny that I was taken aback. When I expressed my delight, he just gave me this knowing grin. That, that was a glimpse.

Yesterday morning, he was watching Curious George, and the episode included something about composting, and he began to talk about "the compost." When I asked him if he knew what that was, he offered a simple and correct explanation. And I was blown away. Another glimpse.

Four, I think, will give me a boy who's perceptive and bright and witty - and stubborn and defiant and willful. I wonder how much more of the baby I will lose, and if this is the year where he will start reserving the affection he still gives with such abandon.

I wish I could adequately share what he's really like, but he defies explanation. You have to be in his presence to really get the exuberance, the charm, the intelligence. These words, my telling you about how infinitely curious he is, how he exudes this incredible friendliness and has a smile that makes everything o.k. - it's just a poor attempt to describe the indescribable.

And next week, he will be four. Oh man, my baby: four. Someone hold me up, because I don't think I can handle it.

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Posted by Tere @ 9/05/2009   | | | links to this post

Thursday, September 03, 2009

I'm an Idiot

I haven't got a clue what I'm doing, people. Clearly, I live in a land where I can handle anything and everything, and no one thing is ever big enough a deal to warrant a full-on freak-out from me.

What the hell have I been thinking, this going back to school thing? I mean, yeah, this is a good thing, and I made this choice for all the right reasons. But holy hell, I seriously did not clearly visualize what it would mean to actually be back in school. I don't know, maybe I figured I'd breeze through it like I did my entire school career through my Bachelor. I just thought that because I felt like it was time for this, and because Max deserves better opportunities that this will allow me to provide for him, that the rest would be negligible. How could I not question my ability to do this? How could I presume that I could just pick up and run with this?

Because what I'm finding (and yes, I know, I'm like two weeks in and still getting used to this massive change) is that I'm so far removed from this world, of school and being a student, that I don't have a clue what the hell I'm doing. At all.

(That's three involuntary "hell"s by my count; this is serious!)

When I first decided to go back to school, this was the plan: I'd do school at night and keep working as usual. I figured it'd be exhausting, but manageable. But then, I sensed what was going on at work, and didn't really know what to do about school; but that was already in motion, so I just took a wait-and-see attitude about it. It turned out that I started school the same week I lost my job, and it's been a mixed bag for me. I've quickly realized that, even with just two classes, this is intense. I didn't realize just how big an adjustment this would be, and I did not pick an easy major (which I'm not yet ready to discuss, mainly because I don't want this to interfere with any possible job prospects - though there are none right now). And coming in like this, without the proper background and so many years out of school, I have a lot of work to do to develop a routine and just understand what it is I'm doing here.

So these last couple of days, I've felt like it's good that I have all this time to focus on school, because I need it. And I've wondered how I would've managed to juggle both school and work (not to mention Max!), because right now, that seems unfathomable. And now, I'm wondering if there's any way I can focus just on school, at least for a semester or two, until I can get a good handle on this and successfully integrate this new part of life into my... life.

I think I might be able to make it work, to be a full-time student and have a part-time job at most, but it's going to require some big sacrifices on my end. I really can't decide what to do. On one hand, some financial issues still need to get squared away. On the other, this would be a temporary thing, as I would want (and need) a job probably in six months or a year. And then I think about how bleak the job market is, not a prospect in sight, and I wonder if I'll be forced to be a full-time student anyway.

Ay. Maybe it's still too soon to have a clear answer. I've been out of work seven days and the picture certainly seems too fuzzy right now to have a set decision. I hope some of this clears up soon, that I'm able to get out of this fog. Right now, though, I have got to get my sh*t together as far as school and get a good handle on it. Failure it not an option.

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Posted by Tere @ 9/03/2009   | | | links to this post

Tuesday, September 01, 2009

My Brain is Crammed

Right now, I'm not feeling like I want to chronicle my adventures as an unemployed single mom. There's plenty I could say, show you what these last few days have been like, but honestly, I don't feel like regurgitating it all here.

I'm pretty sure I'm feeling what everyone in this situation feels. Maybe I'm less panicked? Or clinging to the belief that this is a super temporary situation? What I mainly feel is that I have so much to do that I can't just sit here and wallow. Not only do I not want to do that, I just don't see the point to it. It won't solve anything. I've chosen instead to lead my life as always, making it a point to keep my anxiety at bay, and just pushing thorough my very long to-do list. It's the to-do list that's got me most concerned. There are so many immediate things I need to do, all in an effort to secure a job or get money. And this is incredibly important, but the truth is that there's other stuff going on in my life, equally important, and so far I haven't been able to sit and think about how jobless I am because I just have to act and move, move, move.

There's school, which feels so strange and huge and crazy right now. I've entered a foreign country and am equally lost, a bit overwhelmed, and excited. I have to get used to this world again, and graduate school is nothing like undergrad, so I just need to get my bearings, get disciplined, and let this become a part of my routine. I've been wishing I could find a way to just focus on school, to let this become my job (at least for a semester or two), so that I can kick-ass in my program, graduate quickly, and just get on with it.

And finally, there's my love life. Well, wait, let's step back here. I have no love life, not by my definition, so what I'm really preoccupied with is boys, plain and simple. I'm much too preoccupied for my comfort level, because I feel like I'm in the dark, and this aspect of my life feels so unclear and confusing. It only serves to heighten a very frustrating reality: I know exactly what I want but cannot have it. I hate not being able to get what I want. I've always been someone who gets what she wants. I mean, when I decide something's worth having, it's worth having. There's something about it that I see value and beauty and joy in, and damnit, I want it. And I hate when I feel like this, shaken and insecure and worried that for all my gut feelings and general feelings and rational thoughts, I may be completely wrong, or I may fail. And matters of the heart are so fragile. The level of faith and trust and bravery required to make a move, to let someone in, to really open up - it's intense. I'm scared by that intensity and yet, I want it; I do. And I have nowhere to go, nowhere to place this, and can only go day-by-day, which is not a bad thing, I know. But. But but but but but. Blah.

So - yeah. My brain is full, but I'm focusing on not being overly upset with or overwhelmed by it. I may have totally just jinxed that, but for now, I'm managing to let it all be there and let them do their thing without going nuts about it.

I just keep reminding myself - I can only take each day as it comes, and I can only handle each thing as it comes up. So far, it's working. Keep your fingers crossed that I can keep it up like this.

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Posted by Tere @ 9/01/2009   | | | links to this post