Maybe it’s because the 10th anniversary of 911 that I’m feeling such angst this morning. I know I’m missing my daughter, Addy, this morning, whom I was with on that morning. At the time I was working from home so that I could tend to her. I remember that I was so caught up in watching on TV what was going on that I smeared apricot baby food on her face. Of course, I’ve told this story many times, as so many others have told their stories of where they were on that morning. But Addy called me yesterday (she’s with her mom this weekend) to ask me about it again, wanting to know what kind of food I got all over her face and did she cry or laugh. I told her I couldn’t really remember, although I was pretty sure she didn’t cry. She was just a happy baby eating her breakfast.
I suppose that some of my angst is because of the move. I’m moving back in with my folks, which I’m kind of torn about. Of course, it is not the ideal situation. I mean, I’m 43 and should have my own place. And, right now I could probably continue to rent my apartment. I could probably just afford it, for a few months anyway. But I currently don’t have any serious debt and want to avoid that. I have a bit of saving but the last thing I want to do is eat that up. That, I hope, will go for a house some day, a place for me and Addy, where she can have her own room, her own space. Also, I think that my parents could use my help. My mom needs help taking care of my father, whose health is failing. And they need help with the upkeep of the house. Perhaps that will sound like a rationalization to some. Oh well…. But considering the state of the economy, especially the job-market, it seems a necessary move.
I’m also stressing about my job situation. I don’t have one, and of course I’d like to have one. I’m waiting to hear about a job this week. I’m also torn about that. I want a job but this one will mean long hours, 50-60 per week. I’m not afraid to work long hours but I’ll see my daughter a lot less because of that. I’ll be seeing her less in any case, because living with my parents won’t allow me to have her as much as I do now. But I don’t see how I can NOT take a job offer in this economy. How many people find a new job a month after they lose their job? Not that many would be my guess. I hear stories all the time about people being out of work for 6 months, a year, two even three years. Yikes! And then of course I’m afraid that they’ll contact me and decide to pass for whatever reason. Then I’ll be back to the drawing board, starting over. Sigh.
But I suppose that I should really count myself lucky. Yes, I lost my job but I have quality work experience and a good education to prop me up. And I have a place to go, someplace I can stay that will allow me save money for mine and my daughter’s future while affording me the opportunity to help my parents. And while 911 scared the crap out of me badly, I lost no family or friends. Things could be worse. Of course, I worry that just saying that could somehow jinx me. Knock on wood.
It was cloudy this morning, and it appeared that it had rained last night, the ground wet, puddles in the parking lot of my apartment complex, but the sun seems to be coming out. Maybe I’ll go for a walk.