Oh wait . . .
I think the truth of it is either nothing would be said or lots would be said. Never one thing.
I was thinking the other day about how I have a level of awareness around my annoying ways. Yet speak of my annoying ways always. If I'm annoying, and believe this to be true, then the annoyance should be owned and not qualified.
If you made it through that then I'm in love with you and you need to be my new best friend.
The date today is 26.07.14. I find this shocking.
Yes, I work for Pup and watch my Spud-Muffin, but I bring in no money on my own. Initially this didn't bother me much. In my two marriages there has been an ebb and flow with finances. Especially in my first marriage. I was a stay-at-home-momma and brought in nothing other than random part-time gigs that I would find to bolster up the monthly receivables. And eventually I had a corporate job where I made more than half of the monthlies. So for a great portion of my first marriage my Wasband made the lion's share of the dough-ray-me and for about six years I made a bit more.
But, either way, it never mattered. Wasband and I didn't butt heads too much in this part of our financial planning. Maybe in other ways, but not in this way.
Marriage #2 has been much different. I lost the corporate job a few months before we got married. I went back to school for a period (disaster) then eventually found a job in my field at what I affectionately called "The Tumbler." Again, disaster. Hilariously so, but wow, disaster. I recently found a tongue-in-cheek job description I had written for my replacement and laughed out loud I'm so damn funny. But it spoke to my level of unhappiness with that horrible job.
I ramble here . . .
Then I worked for a lovely consignment shop in a chi-chi neighborhood for a couple of years. Made NO money, but made friends that I will have forever and had a blast working in one of my favorite fields. Fashion and hunting. Because what is more gratifying than the fashion-hunt? Consignment/thrift isn't for everyone, but I love it so.
Then we bought The Firm and we decided I'd watch Spud and work for my darling husband, Pup.
All well and good.
Except I bring in no money.
It's a weird thing.
I don't think she meant any harm, but once during a conversation with a friend we were bantering about any "work" we might want or need on our person (ahem) and I mentioned a few things I wouldn't have any bad thoughts to having done. I said, "Yeah, I've heard that ________ wouldn't cost me so much and have good results." She said, "You mean it wouldn't cost Pup so much."
I was taken aback.
Pup and I are a family, but my contributions are entirely service-based, not financial. Aaaah!
And it struck me hard . . . I have no money to call my own. Probably for the first time, actually, yes, for the first time in my life.
I gotta say, writing all of this out is enlightening. This is the reason people, some people anyway, write. You can have all of these thoughts in your fucking head, but until they are written out you don't know what you really think.
Thanks my invisible community!
Smooches my hooches. I hug and love.