Beholden to Money

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, I held a full-time job. I worked 10-12 hour days. I dressed in pantyhose and Jones New York suits. I took mass transit to work for as long as I could. I had bosses that I both adored and got annoyed with. All of my friends were my co-workers. We spent more time together than we ever did with our spouses. We enjoyed our work, but at the end of the day we were there not just for job satisfaction, we were there for money and benefits.

Since moving to Illinois I have had several part-time jobs. The ones that fit my life best are the ones that are not only part-time but are also temporary. I worked for a year at the Douglass Branch Library when someone got sent to Iraq with the military. I filled in for a summer doing fundraising work at A Woman's Fund while they did a search for a full-time fundraising person. I taught for 2 years at Millikin in Decatur while a professor did research for her Fellowship. 

I did these things not because I needed to "stay busy." Christ, do I hate it when people use those words. Life is not about staying freaking busy. Life is about living. And boy, am I living.

Periodically, I know a lot of my working friends wish they could stay home with their kids. And periodically, I know a lot of my stay-at-home friends wish they could return to the work force. 

From my perspective, it's going to be really hard for me to go back full-time, unless it's something I completely love and see good in its value to our community. 

What makes it worse is that I love being my own boss at home. Even though I have a tough time as it is dealing with the full-on responsibilities regarding X-man and MacTroll and our pets. I make the schedule. I control the flow. Until life decides to have some fun and slap me around with the stomach flu or an ill pet or weeks of rain.

For a person who is able to make one income work and monitor a tight household budget, money isn't an incentive for employment any more. Would more money be nice? Hell yes. Would it be worth putting up with someone else's crappy, infant-like demands of my precious time taking me away from my family -- not so much. If I had to, to send X-man to school or to put food in his belly or keep our house, would I return? In an instant. 

But Parenthood so jacked me up for the workforce. Because I don't see a "hoorah" in a multi-billion dollar corporation making even more mega bucks because of my hard work. All I see is the "boo" for not being with the people that matter more... but that's because at this point, the household budget is working. If the economy collapses and we're all standing in lines for our cans of beans again and in line at the unemployment office, clearly things will be way different.

But one things if for sure, when I'm dead, I'll have done a lot more than 'stay busy.'