A lot of times, I want to punch them in the face

*disclaimer* This is a little whiney.  Sorry.  But I am venting. And sometimes vents involve whining.  Or whining with wine.  And if wine is involved, I'll take the pinot.  A little ice would be good.

Something that I am kind of sensitive about is the fact that I don't work.

I always feel like I have to justify it.  Like, "We felt it was best for our family," or,  "We didn't want anyone else to raise our kids," or  "We are fortunate enough to be able to manage with one income," and then the old faithful, "Alex has such a crazy unusual schedule, there's no way we could make it work if both of us had jobs." Blahblahblah. 

We, of course, because if I said I, then it makes me sound like I don't want to work.  That it was all my decision.  And I get the feeling that some people in my life think that because I don't actually go to work (at a real job), I am lazy.

But the thing is, those are the facts.  And I totally resent it when people insinuate that I don't want to work.  Like I have no ambition, no drive, no need to do anything other than drop my kids off at school and sweep my fucking house all day.  Those are the people that I want to punch in the face.  But I don't.  Because I'm nice.  And controlled.  And I'm just a little bit scared that it would hurt my fist.

I wrestle with the desire to have a "real job" vs. the desire to be here to take care of my family all of the time.

The thing is, we made the conscious decision to let Alex's work be a priority. And in all honesty, sometimes I wonder if that was the best decision.  If it was fair, to me.  When Alex went to Law School, I still worked.  So did he.  He worked all day, then went to class at night.  It was a pretty brutal four years.  But me furthering my education definitely took a back seat.

And then more kids came and Alex's career became more demanding and we just fell into this pattern.  This pattern of me always being here, dealing with things because that was what was easiest.  And the sucky thing is, now I feel like it's too late for me.  I've been out of the work field for like 6 years now.  Who would want to hire me?

It's too late for me.

Partly because I have waffled for so long on what I really want to be when I grow up, but also because now I feel like I'm too old.  I know, I know.  Old people go back to college.  But I just feel like if I did, I'd be 45 (!!) when I finished.  Then what?  Get a "real job" when half the people out there are thinking retirement?  What if I couldn't hack college?  I've been out of school for so long, what if it was too hard?  What if I failed?

I have a ridiculous fear of failure.  So my usual M.O. is to just quit before I fail.  Which in actuality, is failure in itself.

And what do I want to be anyway?

Then the guilt comes.  The guilt of why isn't this enough.  Like really.  Why isn't this enough?

I just feel like something isn't right.  The balance is messed up and my side of the scale is empty.

I'm not jealous, or resentful.  Or maybe I am a little.  I certainly don't blame anyone.  I mean, I realize that it could be worse.  I realize that this is a stupid thing to complain about.  I realize how lucky I am. 

But I feel like life is too short.  I'm seeing that now.  My foot is one step closer to the grave every single day, and the reality is: I'm not 100% content.

I need to figure out what makes me happy.  Where my place is.  And what is missing.  As much as I love being a mother and a wife, I think I need something else too, for just me.  And I shouldn't feel bad for wanting/needing that, to make me complete.

So why is it that I feel like I sound like a selfish, whiney jerk?

This is my VENTING post, because we are on V at Jenny Matlock's Alphabe-thursday.