24 November 2006

I smell fish


Not my usual post, but me, nonetheless. I made the Christmas tree, you like?

Sometimes I need a quiet moment when I am in a thinking mood, to just get some quiet. That day happened to be yesterday. Thanksgiving Day. Six adults and seven children in one house do not help. I ended up hunkered in the quiet of the garage, sitting on a stool with my frozen eyebrows and lone chin hair icicle talking on my cell phone. I had to return the gobhole girl's phone call, so all was good.

I get so anti-social and introverted at big family gatherings. I was not like my usual self, when we went over to my SIL's house. I walk into their rental house, filled with shiny wood floors, new appliances, clean walls and every nice thing in their living room. Even the off-white couches were clean with matching red propped pillows. Not lavish, not showy, just modern, comfy and homey.

This made me upset.

Now, I wasn't upset that they are doing well, in fact, I am very happy for them. They have both done well, but I want to know why those things have eluded my grasp. I work hard. Mr. Coffee works harder. Why can't I be in a house that I love, that's decorated nicely and inviting. People say that it doesn't cost much to decorate. Tell that to anyone who is furnishing a house or better yet, foot the bill and I'll show you how cheap it is. I want a place that I feel is my refuge. A place with carpet (long story) and windows that don't leak in the sunroom. Something with more than 3 bedrooms. Mr.Coffee always feels like the black sheep of the family because we make the least money in all the family, like we are the screw ups, having the most kids without any thought of what money it would take. I KNOW what I am worth, but the family together always makes me feel judged, the needy ones, the black sheep, you know? Thanksgiving is never at my house. My in-laws rarely visit me because I'm so ashamed of my surroundings with my house constantly under remodel. I feel they wonder if Mr. Coffee had married someone else (like a college grad) that things would be better for everyone. Needless to say, I got home, changed into good jammies, ate a pint of Dreyer's Vanilla while watching Grey's Anatomy, and for some reason felt considerably better.

I need to go to school. I want to go to school. Years ago the thought of school scared the pants off me. I was homeschooled 7th grade through high school and rarely wrote a paper. Now? This blogging endeavor has taught me how to write, and further, that I love to write, even though spell check is utterly ruining my life. I could also use a punctuation class or two.

But I don't want to go another day of being so broke, being unhappy with my education and mostly, unable to open my house to people. I have to until I do something to change it. I don't want 5 cars, a maid, expensive art and a 10,000 sq foot house, albeit nice, just not my goal. I just want to be able to pay my family's living expenses and take care of my kids when they have tooth aches and holes in their jeans. I want to be the one to help people have that super Christmas or help the father of 4 who has just lost his job. I want to fix my van that has has so many dash lights stuck on that I tan every time I drive. I want to DONATE to the food bank not just work there and leave with a food box. Is that so much to ask? I say no. Mr. Coffee works his butt off. He works physically very hard. Construction and concrete is just a hard business. (no pun intended)

At this point, I have the determination. The saying goes, "You give a man a fish, he eats for a day. You teach a man to fish, he eats for a lifetime."

Well, I'm a world class fisherman, I just need the freaking boat.

(and by chance you are a reader who believes in not complaining about your income, be a little merciful, you probably have a nice job already. Try seeing life in a new perspective.)

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"One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words."

~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe