I’ve been having a crummy week. Not just because I didn’t get the job, but because things keep going wrong in little ways. Enough little things and I get mondo cranky.

Example: Andrea’s pregnant again. Am I genuinely happy for her? Yes. Do I irrationally feel like I’ve been passed over for a promotion? Yes. (When you’re a mom, getting another account is the only way to get a promotion.)

This is stirring up a lot of issues for me. No matter how much I tell myself that it would be ultra-stupid to get pregnant (again) while we’re living on one income (mine), and no matter how much I want to be living in Toronto with access to Hectate when #2 starts up, I can’t convince myself. Besides, not getting the job close by my parents’ house is just another reminder from the universe that my life is not something in my control; if I’d got the job, I could plan on moving out, secure in the knowledge that I’d be working close to Blake’s daycare (i.e. my mom). Not getting the job means that I’m still floating around in limbo with no savings and no guarantee that the Boy will get a job to supplement my income. No moving + no second income = no second baby.

And it doesn’t help that my parents want to know what I’m going to do with my fabulous tax return, which doesn’t seem so large now that I’m expected to pay back all of the Boy’s student loans right this minute. (Oh, and they want to know how much money I’ve saved. When I said, “nothing,” they didn’t know how that was possible. As more than 60% of my monthly paycheque goes to them for rent and babysitting, they may as well look in a mirror as harangue me about money mismanagement.)

So there’s nothing left but to feel sorry for myself. Which I did last night, consuming sunflower seeds, 2 bottles of beer and 3 episodes of “Lost” while I knit at the Boy’s birthday sock. But now that it’s daylight (and I’m the only one looking after Blake), I’m forced to be less indulgent. I’ve knit throughout Blake’s nap, but now I’m starting to feel some carpal tunnel in my left hand, so that’s out too.

Hence, the self-pity spew. We eliminate the middleman and pass the savings on to the consumer!

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- Rocketbride's adventure of 4/22/2006 03:06:00 p.m.