Shoulding on myself again

   We, who are not in the mood for any of this, salute you. I don't understand why it seems to be so difficult for me to look for freelance writing jobs and/or looking for a summer job. I am almost done the application process to become a substitute teacher. Having a job to go to is not a cheap excuse for me to avoid looking for writing opportunities. I've got the house for that. If the fact that I'm getting older scares me, I remain baffled by my uncanny ability to waste time. It's probably more accurate to say that I am a master of diversionary tactics. The other things I do instead of write are all "useful", they're just not personally helpful.
      As usual, there is no credit for small victories. I have managed to blog every weekday for over a year now. I finally saw the career coach I'd been talking about for months and entered a humor poetry contest. As usual, I'm also not so good at following the advice I paid for. The coach helpfully reminded me that this whole career change thing is  process. The substitute teaching gig I'm working on is not the only thing in my life. There is no reason to let go of my love and interest in humor writing but I need to be realistic about my goals. Even published authors have told me "Don't quit your day job."
     We, as a family, are still focused on getting something that will bring in money. I struggle with the idea of a dream deferred not necessarily meaning a dream abandoned. Even writing will not be a straight path in a sense that I will be writing what a client or boss needs first before I can write what I love and get paid. I'm reading about how a career change also frequently means a drop in income. Peachy,  that's just what we need! The whole process can also take years, which will not start until I start it. At the rate I'm going I could be looking at a decade!

Holy Hotflash, Batman!

   The inevitable has finally happened. It snuck up on me somehow. I'm guessing my ego had something to do with that. It's January, a balmy 30 degrees outside, and suddenly I found myself sweating for no apparent reason. I was indoors and not doing much so I knew exertion wasn't the reason. Our household thermostat has been known to drop to "cheap bastard" when no one's paying attention, too. Was it finally time to admit I'm in THAT age bracket? "Nevah!!", me ego yells. We are not aging, Your Majesty is still young!" Then I see someone who actually IS young. Well THAT sucks.
   Recently,  I attended a painting outing with a couple of friends and someone took a group photo. While I can't say I saw my mom, it made me wonder if my eyes and my brain were occupying the same body! Jesus H. Christ I need some serious Momscaping! I had forgotten that I had worn frumpy clothes just in case I got paint on myself. Frumpmaster General accomplished the mission. It would have been a lot less depressing to take my chances on a decent outfit. My brain is under the delusion that I'm at least ten years younger than my driver's license says I am.
   Am I just really a younger alien trapped in an old lady suit?! (See delusion, previous paragraph.)
   I suppose I should be grateful this crap started in January as opposed to August but so far that's about the only upside I've been able to find. These flashes also don't seem to hit when I could actually use them, like when I'm outside waiting in line for something. I have also read that a side effects of this joyride through hormonal hell include mood swings and weight gain. I've already been exercising at fruitcake levels just to break even. If I'm going to end up eating too much perhaps I should consider pot, at least I will have had the fun of getting high.
     I also thought I was quite moody enough. Did this really need to get worse?! I don't know if my husband will notice the difference yet. Since we live with a tween daughter and a mom of THAT age, I have to feel a bit sorry for him. There could be a money making opportunity here. I could open up a sanctuaty! I could see the commercial now.
   Hello friends! Has your other half and/or offspring suddenly become as rational as Daffy Duck? Is divorce too expensive and no one wants custody of you anyway? Then you need our Spousal Haven In Troubled Times! You could lease your own small space to escape (controlled substances not included). Until they get theirs together,  you're going to need ours! Trust us, this could take a while. [Anyone up for going into business with me? We could clean up!]
 

Geometrically challenged

    My brain, usually, enjoys helping our resident 5th grader with her math homework. My idiot tired body has to be dragged to our dining room table to do this, but masochistic as it sounds, I like helping my kid understand something. We, as parents, are also slowly trying to get her majesty to understand the concept that tests need to be studied for even when there's no direct homework involved. Mommy, however, was the one who needed help recently. In my defense, there were no polygons or prisms whatsoever on the CPA exam and there is not one quadrilateral refernce in the entire tax code (I'm pretty sure, at least.).
    Recently one evening, I was helping our daughter review math concepts for a test. As we got further and further into the questions, I was the one who was getting schooled. She had to explain a couple of concepts to me which was both comforting and scary. I'm glad she gets it for her test but what happens if I get stuck trying to teach this crap?!  I'm guessing that it's a good thing I didn't ask how a person would handle something like this at the job interview or I wouldn't have gotten the job. This trip down memory lane could easily turn into a face plant if I'm not careful.
     I'm going to have to put on my teacher pants as it is just to make sure I stay in control of a class. Talk about getting out of your comfort zone! The vice principal I spoke to assured me there would be one day of training, which seemed a bit short. I was also promised that my first assignments would be in coteaching rooms and instructional aide spots. These guys must really need the help if they're willing to take me on. There is a part of me that can't help but feel that this is unfair, in a sense. There's a lot of administrative hoops to jump through to become a substitute teacher but that's all they are, administrative.
     We, as a family, have skin in this game, so to speak, so I understand at a personal level, the importance of teaching. I don't want to talk myself out of a job but I was surprised that all it took was a bachelor's degree and some paperwork to become a substitute teacher. I have a lot of deference to the women (and men) who followed the "correct path" from the beginning and suffered through the exams and student teaching. It surprises me the district gives the title of substitute to a suburban "mommy off the street" with just one day of training. You need more training than that to prepare a tax return. I can't help but think there's more to it than babysitting 20 odd kids for a day.
     So, am I smarter than a sixth grader? I'm about to find out.
 

Here we go again

   It's a new year. O freakin' goody. I hate it when the holidays are over. Cleaning up from any party is depressing enough but trying to ignore a whole upcoming winter while I'm at it makes things tougher. It felt really wierd stopping work in the sense that my rhythm got thrown off. Admittedly, I didn't have much of one to begin with because my "schedule" is erratic by definition. I am a part time substitute teacher, at least for this school year. New Year same mid life crisis. I may have mentioned that I recently completed a couple of grant writing courses at Camden County College. I was hoping that maybe that would lead to some other work in my local district but so far I've hit a lily white brick wall.
    The floundering continues, dammit. I made the mistake of thinking I was getting somewhere. There were hints, which of course, weren't rude enough for me to notice. The first was from a great book I read called "The Encore Career Handbook". It's about people like me trying to figure out what the hell to do with themselves after the end of a career. It describes the second career thing as more of a process that could include several flops along the way. Well that sucks.
   There was another hint from of all people, me. While I was taking the grant writing class from Camden County College, I did ask my professor about our neighborhood. We are lucky in that we aren't dodging bullets to get into our school but our district is underfunded. How do I fill out these applications to compete with inner cities? The advice I got was to focus on the good the award could do for the district. This sounded like good advice to me so I took that under advisement and moved on.
   I've also noticed at least two other districts near me have received grants from the Department of Education. Since completing the classes I've let evryone with two brain cells to rub together know that I'm a C.P.A. and available to help write grants. I was flat out informed by my district that "We're not interested". I was even blocked from talking to the district business manager! I finally had to go around the business office altogether and spoke to the School Principal. She was at least kind enough to take time to speak to me honestly. Our district doesn't have much success with grants which explains the attitude I got.
   This was disappointing and frustrating to say the least. It's not that I was expecting someone to magically poof me a job pr se but maybe I had a bit more emotionally invested in the possibilities. So now what? I wish I knew.

Thinking outside the box

  Regrettably,  as of this writing, we are at month nine of my spouse being unemployed. He is depressed, putting it mildly and I am having a tough time in patches, trying to help. It turns out, that I really don't need to help so much as listen. The problem is what I'm hearing. It's obvious that his mood is awful because he has an answer for every suggestion.
    "That won't work." "They won't pay enough." "I'm not doing that." You get the idea. When he gets that way, I work on just letting him complain and then move on. I need to stop trying to be a guy and fix the problem! The negativity gets to be a bit much at times and my ego thinks I have great ideas. He does this with everyone, not just me. I know it's the depression/frustration talking. It shouldn't be a surprise by this point that stress levels are pretty high around around here. It appears to be contagious. I am approaching a new adventure while I'm still knee deep in his.
    My own little adventure is a bit scary. I am trying to get myself used to the idea that I will be working myself soon. I am looking at this substitute teaching thing as a small step on a larger journey. I am also not completely letting go of my job hunt. I've learned the hard way, over the years, how important it is to have a plan "B". I am also planning to drag my "Negative Nancy" of a spouse to a job fair. If anything, I'm hoping it will give us both some fresh ideas on what to do and where to apply. I'm also a bit of a sucker for free chachkis.
    I am also still learning about this whole substitute teaching thing and what happens during the summer. There's a theoretical chance that I could parlay my shred of experience gained into another teaching gig, but let's not bet the ranch. That's another reason for my interest in the upcoming job fair. Unfortunately, my mother is voicing her opinion on the whole thing. Captain Obvious never fails to disappoint. My husband should be pumping gas. We are both lazy. The money is eventually going to run out. It's great to have supportive family in times like these. If you have one, dear reader, please let me know what it's like.
  Update: Funny to think my spouse has been working for 6 months now. I've been substitute teaching for about 5 myself. Life has also gotten in the way of my Plan B. There have been some adjustments and the subbing gig has been rewarding/disappointing (Good to feel useful/money sucks). More will be coming on that. Stay tuned.

Stop shoulding on yourself!

   It's been a pretty good summer so far. As of this writing, it is mid August and I am enjoying the last few days of relative freedom before the end of summer camp. The last few days, however, my old friend, guilt, has been rearing its ugly head, a bit more than usual. I'm blaming my spouse, I think he's contagious. After fourteen years of employment in the same place, he has recently found himself unemployed. This was a lot like watching Wile E. Coyote hit a brick wall.
   So why the guilt? I believe it's the fish pond I'm swimming in. My spouse, in response to this "new normal", has been job hunting like mad and when he's not, he's been doing laundry, vacuuming, cleaning our basement and other such useful things. Mommy, on the other hand, has been not quite so busy. Boy does that feel wierd!! I was actually trying to scrape up something to do to avoid that elephant in the room, known as my mid life crisis. I should be sending out submissions and researching college courses, but that laundry he did needs to be folded! Is there a career that involves avoidance? If there is, I've found my calling.
   I always knew I was an odd bird, it's the degree of weirdness that can throw me for a loop. I am guessing this lack of discipline stems from lack of desire and/or fear. You must not want X bad enough if you're not willing to do Y to get it. That much I can understand. I'm disappointed in how my sense of discipline has gone downhill. When I was younger I pulled off the CPA exam and managed my 5th degree black belt, so what happened? Change is scary, so I'm sure that's part of it. I also need to eat my elephant one bite at a time but I could use a good plan of attack - or recipe?
     UPDATE:  Seven months have flown by and I have seen a career counselor. My husband is still home and seriously freaking out. I have completed only about 30 applications but I found a "bridge" job. I will begin, of all things, substitute teaching in a few weeks. I am still in the process of jumping through the necessary hoops but I am making headway. The commute will be less than five minutes so I'm sure to be barely on time. This will be a huge change and an education for me. The funny part is if I thought my own kid was a wealth of material to write about, this new adventure might just generate a book. Stay tuned, dear reader!

I get by with a little help.....

    The older I get, the more I am forced to admit I need help. This is hardly a shock but it's the wide variety and level on which said help is needed that I find staggering. I need help from my husband, Google, caffeine, chocolate, profanity and alcohol just to get through one lousy week, nevermind life in general. We've let earth know we're both looking for work in the hopes that it will stir up some leads. What's funny is that I am not aware of asking for a lot of help from people over the years. That doesn't mean I haven't gotten a lot of help. It just means that recently I've been so introspective I've had my head up my ass.
    It appears that I've always been this way. There's an old therapist joke that goes 'If it's not one thing, it's your mother.' I grew up in an environment which did not allow me to feel safe/relax. I will not get into the gory details but suffice it to say that I am an introvert from way back. Thrown in a stiff amount of stubborn and you've got a recipe for an independent streak a mile wide. The problem begins when the brain ignores the body. It's the equivalent of your mouth writing checks that your ass can't cash. I am currently working on a poem about this very subject.
   I have had to be beaten over the head with my own physical limitations recently and it looks like my ego got the worst of it. In fact, it's still recovering from the assault after a whole year. The stubbornness refuses to permit much in the way of actual changes. The body does the same things the brain has always insisted on, there's just a lot more bitching and sound effects involved. When it comes to asking for help, the mouth would have an easier time spitting out pinecones. Did I mention the ego is still recovering?
     Where does stubborn meet gratitude? I am still functioning, after all, even if it's tougher in patches. I figure I've already past the point where it literally is all downhill from here. Hopefully,  some shred of wisdom has accumulated enough for me to be able to see I need help, ask for it, and God forbid, be grateful it's there.
   Postscript: This was orinally written a few months ago. We are both working now in albeit not that great jobs. They are jobs, nonetheless, and the checks clear. We also still have our health and good friends. For the record, we are lucky to have our friends and we know it!