No work, no home, no other things = uuuuuugggggghhhhhh

I had a really great job, for the most part. Earlier this summer, I was offered a job that related to what I studied in college, paid well, had benefits, and was in a great work environment with nice people to work with. The work was challenging, and I was handling the training very well. Everything was perfect, and things were looking like we were going to be able to move out of the in-laws’ house and be on our own again.

There was just one little thing. Actually, it ended up being a big thing that I hated. I was scheduled to work Saturday through Wednesday 4 p.m to 1 a.m. That meant working the weekends into the wee hours of the night. At first I thought, OK, that’s not exactly what I would prefer, but there was no way to change the schedule. I asked. So, I thought again, It will be fine. I’ll just need to get used to working the swing shift.

After the first shift, something became apparent. “How come I haven’t seen Ben for a while? I don’t like that,” I said. Oh, gee. Ben leaves for work at 6:30 in the morning and comes home at 4:30 in the afternoon. I’m at work by 4, and come home at 2 a.m., to find Ben fast asleep so he can be up early. And when he gets up to leave for work, I’m unconscious, because I just went to bed three hours ago. Whew. Can’t wait for the weekend. Wait, I have to work on the weekend. I’ll see Ben for half the day on Saturday and Sunday, though. That’s good. And when my “weekend” comes on Thursday and Friday, I’ll see Ben for half the day then, also. We will just never have a full day together.

Crap. By the third and fourth shifts, after crossing through the dark alley way in the city to the empty dark parking garage after work, I cried the entire drive home. Good thing there aren’t people on the road at 1:30 in the morning, because I couldn’t see a thing through my blurry eyes.

This was not going to work. So, I quit. Even though Ben only has a temporary job. Even though we would have been able to buy our own house with me working that job. Even though it was a great opportunity for me to work in a related field to what I studied and worked hard for in college. Even though in this economy, I was extremely lucky and blessed to have even been offered a job. Even though we would have felt a lot more comfortable with starting our family with me working that job.

It felt wrong for both of us. I have never felt so stressed out in my whole life. I wasn’t sleeping, and, according to Ben, I wasn’t smiling. It was so hard to quit, but relieving at the same time. It hacks away at me everyday. I had a job, and gave it away. I know it was the right thing to do, but every day I go through the same thought process: “I’m a baby. I’m a wimp. I can’t handle hard things, can I? I’m lazy. I’m a loser. I’m not doing anything to help our situation.” And Ben kindly reassures me every time. But I always relapse.

So now I’m back to the job search. At first I was good, spending hours every day researching, filling out applications, writing cover letters, sending out resumes. But after a couple weeks of that, you start seeing the same things over and over again. And it gets a little old. And I let myself get distracted a lot more, with things like writing ridiculously long blog posts.

Surprisingly, though, it has been very relieving to put all this crap down on paper. (Or the computer screen.)

I’ve just got to force myself to keep plugging along, force myself not to become a total couch potato, force myself to stay positive. Force myself to not be such a wimp. If I can at least do that, I think I’ll be doing some good. Hopefully!