Leaving the pity party

On Tuesday night, I fell apart.

I walked in the door and set down my purse, barely able to mumble a hello to my husband who was patiently feeding our teething and temperamental baby his dinner.

I had been at The Yacht Club, having a beer with some co workers as a farewell to my boss. My beloved boss. The nicest, most supportive, funniest, sweetest boss on the face of the entire planet.

I left the party early because I found myself sitting there with my mouth twisted into a grimace, trying to talk with the others about my boss's new job, where he'd live, and what our office plans to do in his absence - all the while feeling like I might have to make a mad dash to the bathroom.

When I got home, I laid on the couch and a few tears escaped. What was this? Was I crying for my boss? Seemed unlike me. I like him a lot, will miss him, but really? This overwrought show of emotion? A little overly dramatic for my taste.

I had had other bad news that day. My mother called to let me know that somehow an old creditor that I didn't know about had finally gotten ahold of her. I called the creditor and drained our savings account to pay them off, only to later find out there was more of the same on the horizon.

I was angry with my husband for a small tiff we'd had the night before, and I was tired. I walked into that house, saw the mess on the kitchen table, remembered the two loads of laundry that needed my attention, and I just crawled into myself. I told my husband, "I think I'm cracking."

Seriously, I was afraid. "Is this what they mean when they talk about depression," I wondered. "Is this the way I'm going to feel forever??" I was in that dark place, where you don't see the light at the end of the tunnel, and begin to wonder if it's all worth it: the constant budgeting, the constant laundry, the cooking of the nice meals, the hours at work, the effort to maintain relationships, the planning and hoping and goal-setting ad nauseam. It always ends with a good boss leaving and a creditor at your door and a fight with your husband and a cranky baby. So what's the point?

The next day, I felt better. The point, it came back to me. The point is, I love to see my baby dressed in a cute outfit every morning. I like to put a hot meal in front of my husband and see him enjoy it. I like to watch my credit rating rise, and I'll probably even enjoy the process of getting to know a new boss or even a new job, if it comes to that. I've had lots of jobs in my life, and that's just how I am. I gad about a little, and enjoy change.

Last night, I had a drink with some old friends from my long-time teaching job. As I pulled into the parking lot, I wondered for a momement if I'd made a mistake leaving that job. I'm still close to a few people there, and it was a good and comfortable job for many years.

Leaving the parking lot, I knew there was no way I could still be there, doing that job. And even in the transition I'm feeling right now, even with the financial instability and the hard work ahead, I knew, as Kalli says, "I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be."

Life is not what I thought it would be. I am not doing the work I intended to do, not living in the house I intended to live in. Things are not tidy, and nothing is easy. But as I chatted with my friends last night about their work and mine, I realized without a shadow of a doubt that the work I do, I do because I want to. I do not want to be doing the work they're doing. And I am glad for the variety of experiences I've had, good and bad. I'm glad I haven't been in the same place for fifteen years, having the same arguments with the same people.

My road, as the poet said, is the road less travelled. And today, I'm pulling up my big girl panties, and taking the road away from the pity party, into the next chapter. I'll pay the bills, and be grateful I can. I'll wait for the surprise of a new boss (when we get one) and be hopeful about that as well. And I'll squeeze my husband and my baby and know that had I stayed where I was, in the safe place, all those years ago, I'd have neither of them now.

Yep, exactly where I need to be.