Sitting here, having time to fret, isn’t doing me any good

I’ve already said that I’ve handed in my notice at the other job and that it was uncomfortable for me to do so. It took a lot of thinking to decide it was the right thing for me, as I knew most people (my family) wouldn’t see it that way. My brother is aghast at the thought of me giving up holiday pay, a clearly defined number of hours per week and a rostered day off (non-working day with full pay) once a month. He told my mother that I am mad.

I was very grateful to get that job as, due to my knee and the septic arthritis thingie, I hadn’t worked for over two months and I’d been living off my credit card, refusing to take government handouts (I would like to pretend that this is because I have an ideological moral stand but it really was about them fucking it up each and every time I claimed anything I was entitled to, and my subsequently being hit by debt collectors down the road, in spite of having given correct information and repetitively asking if they were sure that everything was ok for me to claim, from a very many different people. This happened more than once.

[To be even more honest, maybe there was a flash of stupid idealism in there as well. I feel that I will always be able to scrimp and save my way into financial survival, in a way that maybe others can’t, so I shouldn’t be taking if I could manage])

When I took my weekday job, I also carried on working weekends for the tour company, just to pay off off my credit card. This has happened. I’ve also been able to outlay some sums for things like a honeymoon, some expensive items (practical, like a new laptop to replace my non-working one) and even not think that the occasional meal out is beyond my range. Probably the most extravagant and frivolous item is having my eyebrows groomed once a month; this is something I’ve never been able to justify before.

Logically I KNOW that I can survive on less work and that the quality of life enhancement factor is really important right now. But it still scares me when I think about not having a fixed income any more. In a lot of ways, I really regret taking the weekday role because it has acustomed me to the expectation of  a certain sum each week and this has never happened before. I feel like I’ve undermined myself because of it.

Scary is not the only emotion that surfaces when I focus on the future . I also feel irritation. Not because of the lack of regular income but because it coincides with me getting married. I don’t want to look like a parasite, bludging off my husband’s income, and a lot of my ambivilence about getting married can be attributed to this. I suspected that is what people might think and that has been the case:  I’ve been asked several times at work if the reason I am quitting is that I am getting married.

I think that I have been fairly restrained in my responses (a simple ‘no’, rather than ‘jam it up your arse, you misogenistic pig!’) but it really bothers me that people (men – it is only men who ask) think that I am preparing to abdicate my financial responsibilites simply because there is a man in my life.

No wonder I don’t want to wear a wedding ring. I refuse to have somebody’s first impression of me be whether or not I am married, and then have them subsequently judge me on that.

I suppose it is a huge compliment to the HTB that I want to marry him in spite of all this, not because of it.

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About quirkycharm

I like to think that I have a certain quirky charm but I am probably being optimistic. Acquired taste, perhaps, which many don't acquire. This is about my fifth blog out there. My hosting companies kept going out of business or my IT exhusband kept hacking into them and I would move again. I don't do twitter, I barely do facebook, I don't try and 'monetize' my blog. I love my husband, my grown children and my job and this particular incarnation of oversharing my life comes at a time when I am the most content that I have ever been. I write always, sporadically during the good stuff and exhaustingly during the bad.
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