Tuesday, April 16, 2013


I am full of bullshit and self-loathing.
I spew platitudes to friends going thru hard times, trying to convey the message of hope and strength. As if I have any fucking clue what that means.
My anxiety today is about a 15 on the scale of 1 to 10. My 11-year-old car is nearing the end of its life. This is a rather inconvenient time, since I'm about to quit my job and go back to school full-time. I was caught in a blizzard yesterday with no heat working in the car during rush hour in a white out and the god damn thing stalled in an intersection.
I'm surprised I did not stroke out from the rage that I felt. My babies are in the car, there is no heat, and we are in an intersection in a blizzard. On April fucking 15.
I asked Brody to say a prayer that we get home. And thank you heaven, it worked. Through a series of moving a quarter-mile and stalling in the next intersection letting the car cool off and then starting it again, we limped home. Towed the car to the dealership today. Damages? The radiator and waterpump. $1500.
I also got an email from my boss at the law firm today. They want to move me into a bigger role at their firm and they asked me if I wanted to stay as an independent contractor or if I wanted to go on as a part-time employee. So pretty much I have to give my notice to them a month earlier than I had planned. Because I can't very well say yes I want to be a part-time employee and then quit four weeks later. But quitting my job is really the last step in this process for me. It was my last security blanket that I could hold onto and change my mind about school if I wanted to at the last minute. And now I can't because I have to give notice that I'm quitting. I've literally felt nauseous the entire day today because of these two developments.
And then tonight, as I was discussing things with my husband about the car and the quitting the job, he says to me, and I quote, "are you sure you really want to be a teacher? Because there's not a lot of money in it and working to spend a lot of money-- what's the guarantee that they'll pay off the tuition if you work for them, and where is it written down that you'll get a job, and it just seems a little weird that you're switching careers at this point."
Nevermind that for the past year, I've been pursuing this by taking the PLACE exam and applying to this program in Denver. Nevermind that I've tried to talk to him numerous times about why I want to switch, because it's nice to have a life partner be your friend and be someone who you can talk to about these things. Never mind that whenever I've done that, he's been on his phone, watching TV, or simply not interested. Tonight. Tonight he says these things to me and then he says to me "this is your last chance. This is your one do-over."
Like I'm getting a deferred sentence in a criminal case.
This is the support I get? Then, he claims, after six months ago saying that we could take a loan out of his 401(k) if we needed to to pay for the tuition, he appears to be flabbergasted today that there is, in fact, tuition and financial aid. Keep in mind, if you will, that this program is very elite, they accept 60 students out of 300 applicants, and it forgives 20% of the entire tuition for each year that you work in the school system after getting your degree. Which means after five years, tuition is 100% reimbursed.
He said "so you're going to pay $30,000 to get a $30,000 your job? And you're already a lawyer?"
Yes, motherfucker, that's my plan.
I gave him the pay scale for teachers in the school system with a masters degree, which starts at $40k, right from their website, and then I gave him my essays that I filled out that got me into this program. Of course, I shared my essays with him before.
He just never fucking read them.
I asked him what was his salary when he first started out in his career? I recall it being somewhere around $17,000 a year. I recall being the only breadwinner for the first three years of our relationship. Then he got the $17,000 year job. And there was a raise to 23,000. Then there was a layoff then there was a $20,000 your job and then there's another layoff and then there was the job he got that actually started his career.
I also liquidated my pension so that we paid off our unsecured debt, get our mortgage back on track and out of foreclosure and put a little money in our savings account.
So I think I deserve a little bit more respect than my husband of 10 years saying to me tonight, "are you smoking something? Do you have any idea what you're doing?"
I have a giant fucking headache right now. I left him with materials from the program as well as my essays about 45 minutes ago. He's back to watching TV. While I put the kids to bed. I have absolutely no interest in talking to him.
This is what I want to teach my sons: It is not what you say that matters in a relationship with your spouse or significant other. It is the way that you say it. Words matter. Tone defines everything.
Hypocrisy and double standards make my blood boil.
And my head ache.
And do you know what my six-year-old told me today? And I quote, "I think you're going to make a great teacher mommy."
How blessed am I? I thank God for my sons. But it's pretty fucking sad when they are more empathetic toward and supportive of me than my 39-year-old husband.


  1. You ARE going to be a great teacher. Fuck the haters!

    Love you.

  2. I feel like there's so much to respond to, but for now I must let you know that my quote for the week is, "Yes, motherfucker, that's my plan."