The Heart and Sole of It

I don't react well to failure.

I've been facing a lot of rejection lately, and everything is changing. I'm so stressed that I forgot my way around town yesterday (and it's difficult to get lost here since everything is a GRID).

Parameters, measured. Surveys, taken. Assessments, completed. Hopes dashed.

I knew this wouldn't be easy. But with a degree under my belt, you wouldn't think it would be so damned hard.

So here's the crux, alluded to: I need to find another part-time position to supplement my income. Or a good, old-fashioned, full-time job. I don't want to do this: I need to do this. I need to be able to support my child, as she is growing at an alarming rate.

She has big shoes to fill. No, literally. Shoes bigger than mine: a size 6. We went bowling the other day and the size 5 shoes, my size, were too tight for her.

But I wonder who will fill my shoes at my current position if I should need to leave. I love my co-workers and certain aspects of my job, of course. This is difficult for me. I work at my favorite store, for Pete's sake. But my gut is telling me that I need to make better use of my skills. And my wallet is telling me that I can't afford my bills and groceries, even with child and temporary spousal support. Life is wonderful and yet expensive.

Also expensive beyond measure: the cost of not seeing my daughter consistently. I need a job where I can support her emotionally as well as financially. Currently, that is difficult since I work until late at night, every night that I work. She told me that she feels isolated and abandoned. I can't really blame her. She rarely sees her dad and now rarely sees her mom. Again, I feel like a failure.

And of choices? Yes, I made the choice to leave my marriage for highly personal reasons. And I don't regret it. I still believe that though I am struggling (which I was warned by a lawyer that I would do), this is a better environment for my daughter. She needs her mom, and her mom needs her. She defines me in so many ways.

I wish so much that I could live my dreams, but frankly, dreams don't pay the bills. I dream about so many things, every night. I dreamt that my father was alive and we lived in a fantastic house. Yet there were so many leaks that the foundation was cracking. I woke up crying because, in the dream, I realized that my father was gone.

Her mother cannot be gone all the time. She needs some predictability: she needs to know that I have her back AND that I have the means to buy her new shoes.

And that's it, and that's all.