Tuesday, July 9, 2013
Boots Talk - Sitting Here
I've had 5 days off work due to my birthday
and turning 30. During those 5 days, I:
spent time with family
ate fantastic food
ate crummy food
slept, but not overslept
made love
went to waffle house
drove home by myself and then back with Zelda
made food
put away laundry
enjoyed myself
enjoyed my family
enjoyed the company of my friends
lit firecrackers in my hand
burned my hand
slept next to my 5 year old
swam
laughed
sang
swept
played games with a 9 year old
watched Game of Thrones
talked about important things
said no
said yes
turned 30 years old
gave a fuck
didn't
prospered
thrived
suffered
revived
lived.
And now I am sitting at my desk, at the office, in the capitol building of this state, waiting for my lunch hour, waiting to see my baby girl, who is 7 and waiting for me to pick her up (if she remembered), who I haven't seen since Friday and it is Tuesday. And what is this job worth? The paycheck? I don't want to work to pay for my lifestyle. My lifestyle is evident in the list. I used my time wisely and I didn't have to work at all for any of it, none of it cost a penny (except the food, the driving, the water used, the television watched, and the beer). So, what am I working for?
Essentially, it is to pay for the past. The credit where credit wasn't due, but they gave it to my young, stupid ass anyway. To pay for the status. The status that says I am middle class and striving to survive, a status that meant something 10 years ago but means nothing today, except that I am unnecessary. The degree was unnecessary, the experience of college was trivial, the effort put forth was trite. I am thirty and I am $1,000 away from paying off my student loan, yet I am (barely) swimming in a mortgage they say I can afford while drowning in debt I am forced to ignore. My car is on its last leg and four bald tires. I think I might be 30 and pregnant for the first time and the thought of it is forcing me to consider what it will take to raise a child. Not withstanding that I am already raising two, working a full time job, running a full time house, and pulling at the busted seams of a marriage worth saving. Being an American is not as easy as they said it would be. Being 30 is not as easy as they said it would be. But being a woman is not as hard as they said it would be. I wish I could just be a 30 year old woman without all of this baggage. I wish I could let it all go.
spent time with family
ate fantastic food
ate crummy food
slept, but not overslept
made love
went to waffle house
drove home by myself and then back with Zelda
made food
put away laundry
enjoyed myself
enjoyed my family
enjoyed the company of my friends
lit firecrackers in my hand
burned my hand
slept next to my 5 year old
swam
laughed
sang
swept
played games with a 9 year old
watched Game of Thrones
talked about important things
said no
said yes
turned 30 years old
gave a fuck
didn't
prospered
thrived
suffered
revived
lived.
And now I am sitting at my desk, at the office, in the capitol building of this state, waiting for my lunch hour, waiting to see my baby girl, who is 7 and waiting for me to pick her up (if she remembered), who I haven't seen since Friday and it is Tuesday. And what is this job worth? The paycheck? I don't want to work to pay for my lifestyle. My lifestyle is evident in the list. I used my time wisely and I didn't have to work at all for any of it, none of it cost a penny (except the food, the driving, the water used, the television watched, and the beer). So, what am I working for?
Essentially, it is to pay for the past. The credit where credit wasn't due, but they gave it to my young, stupid ass anyway. To pay for the status. The status that says I am middle class and striving to survive, a status that meant something 10 years ago but means nothing today, except that I am unnecessary. The degree was unnecessary, the experience of college was trivial, the effort put forth was trite. I am thirty and I am $1,000 away from paying off my student loan, yet I am (barely) swimming in a mortgage they say I can afford while drowning in debt I am forced to ignore. My car is on its last leg and four bald tires. I think I might be 30 and pregnant for the first time and the thought of it is forcing me to consider what it will take to raise a child. Not withstanding that I am already raising two, working a full time job, running a full time house, and pulling at the busted seams of a marriage worth saving. Being an American is not as easy as they said it would be. Being 30 is not as easy as they said it would be. But being a woman is not as hard as they said it would be. I wish I could just be a 30 year old woman without all of this baggage. I wish I could let it all go.
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