When I envisioned myself going back to work, I pictured the right job. Something challenging, satisfying, (but not depleting) and part-time to allow a more gradual transition to the kiddies (and to me). I will wait for the 'right' one, I reasoned. Otherwise, why not just keep on keeping on?
But gradually, it seems as though this was a utopian thought bubble. Because one has to secure childcare before one gets a job, right? So - we've secured a great spot for Boy-o starting in September, in the before and after care program at his school. It's a full-time spot, because that's all they offer. But it's a great program and we feel pretty good about it. However, starting in September, our expenses move up $700 per month. Not including whatever we will pay for Girlio's as yet unprocured spot. And I still don't have a job. Um, not that I'm panicking or anything. (Me? Lay awake at night in sheer panic? Nah. Not me.) And then there's the issue of whether I'll actually be paying to go back to work. Which is a whole 'nother ball of wax that may or may not have me lying awake at night.
And so I've found myself tempted to apply for jobs willy-nilly. Crap jobs. Any part-time job. (and a whole lot of them are crappy). I've written cover letter that dumb down my skills in the hopes that someone will want a filing clerk with an M.A. Because we can't go into debt anymore. Because maybe my frustration at the constant backwards financial slide is greater than my desire to be intellectually stimulated. I'm not really sure anymore.
Maybe I should just stay put.
Maybe. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.