i don’t want this job anymore.  for those of you who know me personally, this doesn’t come as a surprise.  i’ve felt the same way about my “career” for years now, only the sentiment ebbs and flows depending on how busy i am and how much money i’m bringing home.  but the fact of the matter is that i’ve been wrestling with this beast for too many years of my short life.  i do not want to be doing this, or anything remotely similar to this, in 10 or even 5 years.  the world has GOT to have more in store for me than spending 8+ hours behind a computer screen without any glimpse of sunlight or fresh air. but what do i do?  i want to go home. my body and my soul misses the north.  new york, of course, but i’d be happy with jersey, connecticut, or even “upstate” ny (which everyone knows is not really new york anyway).  the south has afforded me and my family some great financial opportunities, but there’s been quite a heavy load of shit as well, and i just frankly need to get back to my roots.  it’s a quandary, given that i don’t want to work anymore, and also want to move back to one of the most expensive areas to live in the country.  bit of a pickle, wouldn’t ye say?  nonetheless, it’s what my heart’s been reverberating at length, and the volume’s seem to gone up dramatically in the past few weeks.  i’ve got to make it work.

there are times when i am not at work during normal M-F office hours, and i look around at the people who are doing grocery shopping in their sweats or walking their dogs in shorts and flip flops, and i have to wonder if they’re lucky enough to not have to work, or just have unusual business hours.  to say that i am intensely jealous of those people is an understatement.  Target and Harris Teeter seem like completely different places at 1:30pm on a Tuesday versus the immutable weekend crowds that I am sadly accustomed to.  The simple things in life take on a whole new meaning when you don’t have a routine to adhere to.

there is a small percentage of my brain that wants to type up my resignation letter as soon as i’m done with this blog post.  i want to leave corporate america and kick it in its lily-white elitist ass on the way out.  shoot, if they knew how much time i spent on the internet they’d probably fire me anyway.

but, i dont want to be a unemployed, either.  i just want to do something fun and interactive (and PART-TIME!), like working at a florist or bookstore.  some where that doesnt’ make my ass go numb from sitting all day.  something where i dont have to feel bad for pushing our business dress code to its limits (hey, pink corduroys arent jeans!).  seriously.  fuck high heels and skirts and cosmetics.  i want to wear those things when i have a reason to look my best, not because the walls of my cubicle demand that i spend my paycheck at Bare Escentuals and Ann Taylor Loft.   i am so done.  i want out.  i am so much better than this corner i have painted myself into.  i have no desire to be a successful career woman.  i am a mommy and an artist and a tree hugger and the time i spend away from those deeply ingrained facets of my being are causing me pain that i can no longer ignore.

another problem is ego.  do i allow myself to be the wife that relies on her husband’s salary?  i truly believe that my husband wants to be able to provide for us all, and if he did i would be thrilled to keep the house clean and make dinner every night.  seriously.  i wouldn’t ask for anything, for my freedom would be more than enough of a gift.  but i don’t know if i would feel right going out and buying myself a new pair of shoes if i didnt contribute to the family’s finances.  i suppose that’s why i would like to work part-time, not only for the activity, but for the small confirmation that the little bit of money i bring home would negate any dependence i might otherwise feel.

something’s gotta give before i end up sabotaging my current situation.  i am fed up.  logic will always keep me from making any hasty decisions, but… well, will it?  who knows.  maybe what i need is to just do something rash.  trust that everything will work out.

how much longer will it be if i don’t?

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