Tough weekend
Sep. 27th, 2009 06:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pegkerrThe girls were both sick. Delia's been fighting a virus for a week (she stayed home from school on Friday; I stayed with her). Tonight Delia's feeling a little better, but Fiona feels awful. I doubt she'll make it to school tomorrow.
There are some of the obvious things weighing me down. It just seemed especially tough this weekend. I don't know why.
Rob's census job, which he was initially told would last two months, now he thinks will last two to three weeks. After what happened with the last census gig, I'm not surprised. Disappointed, but not surprised.
The house is a mess. I feel weary and unmotivated, and so I just stare blearily at it and can't bestir myself to do anything about it. Instead, I just feel oppressed by it. The girls are too run down to help. Rob, of course, as ever, can't be bothered.
Rob has been out of work for fifteen? sixteen? months now. Unemployment has just about run out. Savings will take us until, oh, I guess about Christmas. And then we start selling stuff. And then . . . ?
The paper says that Minnesota is not one of the states that will get another extension of unemployment benefits. Our unemployment rate is not high enough. Never mind that there are six jobseekers for each opening and my husband can't get a job. Our unemployment rate isn't high enough, ergo no extension.
The school board passed their plan, so it seems like a snowball's chance in hell that Delia will be able to go to Fiona's high school.
There is stuff that Elinor Dashwood is still working through. You think that after five months I'd be over it by now. I'm not.
Other family strains, due to, hello, teenage hormones and the immense strain of long-term unemployment.
I am pleased by my new physical therapist, and I'm doing my exercises faithfully, but I still cannot do karate. Another two months at least, she says.
I've finalized my resume to be an ACT/SAT tutor (for night and weekend work). Sent it out to a couple places. No nibbles.
I have stuff I have to deal with. I need to email some people on a project I wanted to get involved with. I need to start hunting for scholarship information for Fiona for college. There are some family issues that have to be addressed. I need to deal with other stuff: bill-paying, life maintenance stuff. I don't wanna do any of it.
I am slipping into depression. I know I am. It's hard to cook. It's almost impossible to read. All warning signs that I know. I've hesitated to say it, fearing that saying the words is like a jinx, but I am. It's common for me this time of year, and god knows I have plenty of excuse with the state of my life. And gah, there's just the utter weariness of, there she goes again, getting depressed. And complaining about it. Can't you cut it out, Peg? Must we go there again? Surely my friends list doesn't want to hear this crap again. Even more, I don't want to be living it.
But I am.
I squandered cash to buy the movie Coraline for Delia, who's suffering cabin fever as badly as I am. Now I'm on the third book in the Princess Diaries series.
Popcorn books; that's all I can read. I'm all out of Georgette Heyer; I've re-read every one of them this past month.
There are some of the obvious things weighing me down. It just seemed especially tough this weekend. I don't know why.
Rob's census job, which he was initially told would last two months, now he thinks will last two to three weeks. After what happened with the last census gig, I'm not surprised. Disappointed, but not surprised.
The house is a mess. I feel weary and unmotivated, and so I just stare blearily at it and can't bestir myself to do anything about it. Instead, I just feel oppressed by it. The girls are too run down to help. Rob, of course, as ever, can't be bothered.
Rob has been out of work for fifteen? sixteen? months now. Unemployment has just about run out. Savings will take us until, oh, I guess about Christmas. And then we start selling stuff. And then . . . ?
The paper says that Minnesota is not one of the states that will get another extension of unemployment benefits. Our unemployment rate is not high enough. Never mind that there are six jobseekers for each opening and my husband can't get a job. Our unemployment rate isn't high enough, ergo no extension.
The school board passed their plan, so it seems like a snowball's chance in hell that Delia will be able to go to Fiona's high school.
There is stuff that Elinor Dashwood is still working through. You think that after five months I'd be over it by now. I'm not.
Other family strains, due to, hello, teenage hormones and the immense strain of long-term unemployment.
I am pleased by my new physical therapist, and I'm doing my exercises faithfully, but I still cannot do karate. Another two months at least, she says.
I've finalized my resume to be an ACT/SAT tutor (for night and weekend work). Sent it out to a couple places. No nibbles.
I have stuff I have to deal with. I need to email some people on a project I wanted to get involved with. I need to start hunting for scholarship information for Fiona for college. There are some family issues that have to be addressed. I need to deal with other stuff: bill-paying, life maintenance stuff. I don't wanna do any of it.
I am slipping into depression. I know I am. It's hard to cook. It's almost impossible to read. All warning signs that I know. I've hesitated to say it, fearing that saying the words is like a jinx, but I am. It's common for me this time of year, and god knows I have plenty of excuse with the state of my life. And gah, there's just the utter weariness of, there she goes again, getting depressed. And complaining about it. Can't you cut it out, Peg? Must we go there again? Surely my friends list doesn't want to hear this crap again. Even more, I don't want to be living it.
But I am.
I squandered cash to buy the movie Coraline for Delia, who's suffering cabin fever as badly as I am. Now I'm on the third book in the Princess Diaries series.
Popcorn books; that's all I can read. I'm all out of Georgette Heyer; I've re-read every one of them this past month.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-28 02:22 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-28 02:50 am (UTC)