On work and kids and travel and life

Driving in to work this evening I made some mental calculations -- I will log 70 hours at the clinic in a seven day span (Monday to Sunday). If I include the weekend before the number jumps to 96. Yup -- 96 hours in nine days. No wonder I'm tired.

Why am I working so much? Because next week I'll be traveling. I'm attending a conference in Nashville. Mr. Peculiar will be going with me and the grandparents will be coming to stay with the kids. It will be a lovely and much needed change of pace.

In order to get time off several of my shifts have been squished into a short period of time. The downside being I don't have a lot of time to prepare for this trip.

Our house is, ahem, a disaster. And my parents are coming. I'd really, really, really like it to be somewhat clean. I am hoping the family will clean this weekend whilst I sleep the day away (and work the nights). If you don't include the night shifts that sounds terribly luxurious -- sleeping while others clean around you. If this doesn't happen (honestly it's a pipe dream - they have water polo and thrifting and other events to attend) then I'll be scrambling on Monday to instill some order in our chaotic world.

Of course this stretch of work also coincides with the beginning of school. Which, in a way, is nice as I have time during the day to sleep. But I feel guilty for doing so (and then I feel guilty for feeling guilty -- what a vicious cycle) . There is so much to do at home.

I can say the crock pot is my friend -- last night we had Honey-Mustard Rosemary Chicken with Sweet Potatoes. But today I did not manage to cook. Mr. Peculiar will be delivering take out. Which is, in and of itself, guilt inducing as this does not fit into our budget. Oh economy will you ever turn around?

I have managed to provide after school snacks. Wednesday was pumpkin chocolate chip cookies. Yesterday we had fun apple slices, peanut butter and marshmallows. Today was easy peasy sweet and salty popcorn.

Ah and now it seems I have a flurry of emergencies to attend to here at work. I must bid you adieu.

xo.

Please Universe

"Waste neither time nor money, but make the best use of both. Without industry and frugality, nothing will do, and with them everything. " ~Benjamin Franklin

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This morning I pulled into the driveway and said a little prayer. Please universe. Could you send a bit of money my way. Actually a bit more than a bit. Twenty-thousand dollars would be ever so lovely. It would be the security we need. Then I said another prayer within the prayer. Oh, but universe, this money needs to come from a happy place. You see I am fully aware of The Monkey's Paw and do not want the cash should negative consequence result.

Having made my plea I gathered garbage from the car and was about to throw it away when a dime fell out as if it had fallen from the sky. Phenomenal! I revised my prayer to nineteen thousand nine hundred ninety-nine dollars and ninety cents.

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Once upon a time we had an emergency fund. Right or wrong that fund was in the stock market. Our money lost half it's value. Then we had to tap into it. Shall we just say our security is quite meager.

Like so many other Americans, our family made less money this year; 2009 is less than 2008 is less than 2007.

We still contribute to our retirement funds. We continue to pay our bills on time. But things are tight. Very very tight. And stressful. This is not what I want. I desire, crave, financial freedom.

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Knowing then what we know now we'd make different choices. Hindsight is always 20:20. But the past is in the past. We must look to the future.

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In a way I am grateful for the recession. It's taught me to be creative and innovative. It's made me question some long-held beliefs. It's opened the door to the right side of my brain and given me permission to explore. My skill, insight and knowledge have grown. This is wealth in and of itself.

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We will continue to be frugal. We're searching for additional income. I sincerely hope this is bottom. We're clawing at the surface of the crater trying to get a hand hold on something that won't crumble. Each new attempt comes with the hope of dragging ourselves up and out.

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We are okay.

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I truly do not expect this money to fall from the sky (but oh how exciting would that be?!!). I know it must come from me. I am, however, hoping for a karmic nudging to help me along.

Please universe!

Midlife

Grey grifty November. The clouds push closer and closer--determined to crush our minds and spirits, determined to garner our souls. The house is dark, lights off for energy savings and to slow financial hemorrhage. The sink is full of dishes. Powdered sugar covers the counter like a winter snow, melted, then refrozen with litter from the streets. The cupcakes have disappeared. All that remains is the mess. It feels hopeless, desolate. I stand at the kitchen window and watch a single leaf dangling from a skeletal branch, holding, holding then snap--with a gust of wind it’s gone. I too am ready to snap, to disappear in a tempest as if I’d never been. There’s nothing left to do but clean.

The kitchen lights sputter, shocked at being called into action, then spark to life. I push up my sleeves and turn on the sink. Bright pink gloves protect my eczematous hands. The warmth creeps in; it ignores the latex barrier and begins to thaw my marrow. I smell last night’s dinner--grilled onions glazed in a balsamic reduction--love burnt into the pan. One by one the dishes disappear. The counter shimmers. The kitchen is transformed.

It’s the cycle of seasons, the cycle of housecleaning, the cycle of life. And I realize it’s time for my life to cycle. I ache for the upswing. Gloves off I stand ready.

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This weekend I had a epiphany. I was kneeling in the living room picking up toys and thinking about how I had to work over Thanksgiving. Thinking about how I had to work Tuesday night (and Wednesday night and Saturday day and Sunday day). And I realized that I really really don't want to do it anymore. I need to make a change before I end up in the loony bin.

At the same time I wrote the above post for a writing prompt. That solidified it. I'm now taking baby steps to change my life by the time I turn forty (this gives me 2 1/2 years to formulate and execute my plan). I don't yet have a solid plan but this weekend I started poking around the freelance writing market - we'll see what pans out.

My current fantasy--to find enough freelance writing and veterinary relief work to pay the bills. I'm not looking for fame or fortune. I'm looking for a reasonable income with reasonable flexible working hours.

Truth-be-told I'm scared, scared even to write this. It seems silly. A pipe dream. I may be an abysmal failure. And these are baby baby steps. I'm not quitting my job--yet. I'm simply wondering if I could quit my day (well actually night) job sooner than later. But I'm putting these thoughts out there for you to read, to know, so I don't chicken out.

And today a friend sent this quote from The Artist's Way ..."leap and the net will appear." I hope hope hope it's true. I'm not quite there yet. I'm on the precipice, peering over the edge into the canyon below, contemplating the consequences. I could fly. I could fall. I could hit the bottom and bounce; find myself bruised but in the air. I'll keep you posted.

Last night I went to bed at 2:00 am. We were watching movies. Time slipped away. It didn’t matter because tomorrow (well now today) was/is Saturday. Though I had to work at four we could sleep to our hearts content. The kids were asleep and the hubbie and I found ourselves alone. Heaven, pure heaven. We snuggled up on the couch and watched Dan in Real Life.

This morning at 6:55 am the *#!#* dog started barking. I pulled the covers over my head and the hubbie graciously got up to let the sausage out. Thrilled I stretched, rolled over and went back to sleep. Flash forward five minutes - awake again to the blaring of the phone. It was the clinic. The day doctor had a stomach virus and lucky me I got called in to work early. Suddenly I was facing twelve plus hours on the job and working tomorrow too. Spectacular.

If this had happened in the past I’d hit the coffee stand and have the hubbie bring food later in the day. But not today. We both got up. The hub made coffee. I made a peanut butter sandwich and grabbed a box of tomato soup. I also packed up last night’s movies to return on the way. I remain determined to sit with our budget. I will sacrifice for my future self. For retirement. And on days like today I want that future to happen sooner than later.

I am trying to see the positive side of things. I’m pushing away the grump; the one that mumbles under her breath about being the only person who will return 7:00 am phone calls, the one who comes in to work, the one who gets no recognition or appreciation. After all working affords me the opportunity to make extra money. Plus I don’t need a babysitter because my husband is home. And on the way to work there were some amazing rays of sunlight pouring through the clouds; a sight I’d have I missed had I stayed in bed.

And as I drove to work, mesmerized by the beauty of the sky, feeling very tiny in this huge amazing world, I remembered a post from Jen Lemen earlier in the week. She quoted Rumi:

The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
Don’t go back to sleep.

You must ask for what you really want.
Don’t go back to sleep.

People are going back and forth across the doorsill where the two worlds touch.
The door is round and open.
Don’t go back to sleep.

–Rumi

So today I am here. I am awake and I will not go back to sleep. I will embrace each moment and I’ll open that window to my soul, just a crack, and let joy seep in.