Oh Wah Wah

I’m having a pity party, and for those who don’t want to partake, go to another blog site. Ok? Well then, for those who masochistically chose to hang around….
We are looking into a tunnel that, for one reason or another, does not have a light at the end. Or, if there is a light, it’s so far away that we will hopefully, or probably be dead before we see it.
Since I started working for my present employer, we have seen the effects of having half the income we were used to making. We’ve cut back and cut back even more, but the expense of just surviving is far more than what we bring in for wages. Every day we wait to see what kind of disconnect or wage garnishment or new expense will kick us further down the ladder of life. Dr K, who is showing symptoms of a grave disease, can’t take time off from work to have the tests done to diagnose his illness. “Can’t take time off” means he’s taken too many sick days due to his illness, and his job would be in serious jeopardy if he misses another day. And our insurance is through his job, not mine.
The worst part about my job is that I love it. I work hard, both physically and mentally, but I get to see the results of my hard work whereas, in my previous jobs, I felt like just a micro-cog in the wheels of big business. I love the people I work with, love the stress, love the hands-on aspect of it. But loving my job is making my personal life a hell. If I could make just two or three dollars an hour more, life would be a dream…instead of a nightmare.
Yes, I know there are so many others out there who are in worse financial straits than we are. But, when it comes down to who-is-more-deserving-of-compassion, I tend to forget the worse-offs and think selfishly of myself.
I know there are higher paying jobs for me out there…but I also know I would–and never have–found the satisfaction in them as I do in my low paying position. Dr K makes more than I do, but he hates his job. That doesn’t stop him from doing his utmost best at his work, but it does make him depressed, miserable, and sick.
We will soldier on, thanking God that we have a roof over our heads and food to eat. But the stress of waiting, waiting , waiting for the next shoe to fall, so to speak, is killing us.


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