We didn't move far, just over the Columbia River to Vancouver, Washington. P's new job is 30 minutes north of our new home, but adding in the traffic to cross the bridge into Portland, and the Traffic to our home in the SW suburb of Tigard, and his commute was almost 2 hours each way some days. That is hardly sustainable.
I had the crazy notion that I would keep my job in Beaverton for the next school year, as L's preschool is down the street from work. Between having a 1.5 hour commute some days, and the knowledge that our site was moving farther south, away from L's preschool and deeper into traffic Hell, I finally came to terms with the inevitable, and quit my job. I was certain I would find work by the time school started. After all, I'm smart, energetic, and highly employable. Yet, as each day in August goes by and I don't get that phone call offering me the safe haven of a paycheck and benefits package, I grow a few more grey hairs, wrinkles, and deepen my need for anxiety medication.
School starts on September 2nd, and I'm still unemployed.
School starts on September 2nd, and I'm still not a licensed educator in the State of Washington.
School starts on September 2nd, and my checking account balance is getting low.
School starts on September 2nd, and I'm actually considering that dog walking position posted on Craigslist.
I'm sure once school starts, I'll enjoy the freedom of a quiet house all to myself for a while. I may finally finish unpacking and get the garage cleared out enough to park our cars in it. I may finish that weighted blanket I started making for L's birthday (in April) that he keeps asking about because it's about the only thing that will get him to sleep at night. I may build a chicken tractor and then fill it with egg makers.
Until then, I will fret, check the status of my teaching license and job openings online every hour, and google "work from home jobs" every evening.
But now that I have all this free time on my hands, perhaps I'll write more. I have a few things peculating in my head, things I've jotted down in my mind as I begin to drift to sleep and see things with a clarity I don't have in my waking hours. Once the kids are in school, I won't have the distractions of finding lost items, putting together train tracks, or cleaning up spills around the house (how did the toothpaste even end up behind the couch?), and I can write freely, honestly and beautifully.
Or, I can finally watch Season 3 of OITNB.
|Yeah, I probably won't be writing...|