The Seasonal Blah

Or maybe it’s just life. Or just me. Who knows?

I’m sitting here at the office with nothing more than 45 minutes of data entry work left, yet I get to watch the clock for another 7 hours. I’d much rather be home with my boy’s today.

I’ve been feeling overwhelmed with things in general. Work has been easy, so I’m not overwhelmed with my job, but I am ready to take a blunt object and knock some sense into one of the employees. Why am I being told paper is out of the fax machine when she was just standing at it? And the paper is sitting directly next to the machine. Why does she make everything feel like it’s an emergency? “The address is this, but there isn’t a building between those two places!! What do we tell the driver to do???” I turn stage right into my office, come to my computer, and peck a few key things into google. Ouila! How about that? That office is IN the hospital. Easy find. Not an emergency.

At any rate, school has me stressed a bit. I wrote the most horrifying lame essay for my Humanities class. I can’t believe I even turned the paper in. But something is better than nothing where my grade is concerned. After spending five years out of college and desperately longing to be able to rejoin the higher education community, I’m burned out after a measely 4 months. Maybe I’m not really burned out. Maybe I’ve lost some self-confidence along the way the past few months. Perhaps that’s really what I should attribute this feeling to. Either way, I’ve spent weeks jumping through hoop after hoop trying to get things lined up for the Spring Semester. I’ve been put in a position where I have to take classes that I hadn’t originally planned for this soon, but I’m trying to look at the glass as half-full. I should, shouldn’t I? I mean… it’s half full considering I even went back to college. What are the statistics on students returning after 5 years with two children? I am curious.

I’m fairly certain I have a solid 4.0 in one class this semester. I’m fairly certain I have a wobbly C in the other. I’m praying that somehow I pull off a B in that last class… I’m not holding my breath for it though.

My oldest son has decided to take a year break from Cub Scouts. Something tells me he is going to turn it into a permanent break. But that’s okay. There is a difference between him not wanting to go to a meeting because he’s tired, or he’d rather be home playing video games, then there’s the difference between enjoying and not enjoying something. I think X was tired of Cub Scouts, and I’ve always said I’d allow him to do things so long as he enjoyed them and I wouldn’t make him do extra curriculars when he lost the joy in them. I’m kind of greatful. I was rather ready myself for our Tuesday evenings to be free. At the same time I’m kind of sad… X is “growing up” and making decisions that will change his future. No, I’m not saying him quitting Cub Scouts is going to dramatically change things, I’m just saying… now is the time when he starts getting more independant in thought and decision making. He could have stayed in Cub Scouts. I could have made him stay. I could have pushed him to stay in so that he might work towards becoming an Eagle Scout one day. Somehow though, his personality tells me he wouldn’t have stayed through Boy Scouts and the stipulations that come with that when you hit middle and high school social ladders. He’s going to be a soccer fellow. Without fail he always wants to play soccer. He has potential, he just really needs some real guidance. Unfortunately, I’m not sure how to provide that guidance at home. I was never really a sports girl. I was the nerd that didn’t fit into either crowd. Not quite smart enough to fit in with the “elite” nerds (I know, the reference now is laughable), but certainly to “nerdy” to fit in with the general population. At any rate, point being, he needs a good coach and a good soccer program to help keep his interests peeked and to help him work on those skills.

I’ve lost my direction in this blog. Probably because I keep getting distracted by things here at the office. It doesn’t bother me. And I suppose if any reader is bothered, they don’t have to continue trying to piece my thoughts together.

I’m peeved and frustrated with the long wait to see child support start coming. The order was placed over a month ago. Actually, we’re approaching 6 weeks. I know the child support is being taken from my youngest son’s father’s paycheck… now it’s a waiting game hoping that the state decides to get those funds to me. My ex-husband took  his sweet time about signing our final paperwork so I’m certain I won’t see anything from him until January at this rate.

You know, women get this bad rap for complaining about child support. Perhaps there are people, okay I’m certain there are SOME, who use child support in questionable ways. Some see it as a meal ticket, an easy way off, and an excuse to not work. But I’m so tired of stereotypes. I feel so self-conscience about saying anything about my irritation with not seeing any yet. Gosh darn people. My ex-husband has lived in dorms and a frat house the last 7 years while he was focused on getting his fancy Doctoral degree. He “couldn’t” work, and therefore “couldn’t” help me with things. My son has done without for a long time. That child support is the financial cushion that my son deserves. He won’t be spoiled rotten, but he won’t do without because mom is broke. My 2 year old’s father… he has been seen at bars, he has gotten other people pregnant, he has his pretty car, and he has all those frivolous things he wants… yet everytime I’ve needed help paying a doctor bill, getting a prescription, or buying clothes for a growing child… he has been “broke.” Child support from him?

That equals no longer having to struggle to make those ends meet as I’ve managed to avoid most all government programs (I still have Child Care assistance… child care expenses make it impossible to pay bills without the programs… $235 is what I would have left to pay for groceries, gas, car insurance, diapers, etc.). Medicaid… I finally swallowed my pride and put the kids on Medicaid. But not before paying nearly a thousand in medical bills for my 2 year old. I remember when I first set-up the payment plan with the woman at the doctor’s office. She had this tone, this look, like she doubted I’d keep up with things. The first time I had to set-up an appointment for C after I started that plan and she had to approve adding to my account balance so I didn’t have to pay up front… she gave me another sneer. Over the course of two years though… she found that I wasn’t one of “those” people. Occasionally I had a month so tight I couldn’t afford my $10/month payment. But she knew I’d show up the following month with four or five times my minimum payment amount. As soon as I received my tax refund I went and made another huge dent in my balance. Stimulus payment? Another dent. A 75 month payment plan was dissolved in 18 months. But during that time she talked me into swallowing my pride. And I’m thankful she did.

Well… this ramble is going nowhere fast. I should do my 45 minutes of paperwork. At least this passed some time.