So once a month (guess which time) I get kind of moody. I always start questioning things… my life and the choices I’ve made. I start to wonder if I’m just a big old failure. (Yes, yes, I know you’re all screaming and throwing tomatoes at me) But really…
You see, most of the time I think that I’ve made a good choice. Deciding to have Emma and stay with my parents, at least until she’s old enough to go to school. That way I can stay home with her, not have to work, and actually be a single mom who gets to be at home for my daughter’s early years. I used to think, who knows, by the time kindergarten arrives, I may have sold to NY and be selling one or two books a year. I could afford to not go back to work and actually be writer!
But kindergarten is just over two years away, and even if I do get multi deals to NY. I’ve had a reality check. Most authors–especially single moms–can’t afford to quit their day job just because they’re selling a few books a year. And I really couldn’t. I need the medical benefits. And if I’m not working and making too much money from books, I lose my state help for benefits. And I need them because I have health issues that don’t let me buy my own.
So I know I have to go back to work soon. But I’m hitting that panic stage. Because I love where I am now. Grandma sitting a couple times a week (and getting a little extra money), being able to be at home with my daughter, be able to hold office as Vice President of my local RWA chapter, take a small job at my publisher, write A LOT. There’s just so many plus sides.
And with each year that goes by with me out of the ‘workforce’ I start to get more worried. My resume is going to have a big gap. Most employers won’t even give me a call back. The one place I know that will hire me (where I worked when I was prego, my sis-in-law works there) is a wonderful company, but they are rigid. No internet, no excuses. Not even on lunches. So add in commuting time, and I’m looking at an 10-11 hour work day. And that strikes the fear of God into me. I’ll get home and Emma will be ready for bed an hour later. And I’ll spend an hour or two writing before I pass out myself….
Okay, as I type this I realize I’m whining. Screw it. Women do this all the time. I can too. When it’s time, I’ll suck it up and deal. Honestly, the biggest horror is no internet for 11 hours a day! And I’ll have to cut back on my volunteer work in the writing community. But like I said, that’s a couple more years. And who knows, I could be the next Jenny Cruise by then. (I’d say Nora, but my writing is more funny and Jennyish.) See, I’m setting my sights high :)
Okay, okay, all done. Here’s my Halloween pic of the day. It could be worse. I could be her….
