There are many ways to be broke…

https://catapult.co/stories/what-home-staging-showed-me-about-housing-in-america-real-estate-show-home-alexis-zanghi?utm_source=pocket-newtab

Return to the Office & Part-Time Jobs

It seemed so far away back when I was scheduling my first and second vaccine shots but now I’m just a few short days away from going back to the office. On March 17th, 2020, they sent us home to work and we’ve been home ever since that time. I think back to that day and how we felt. It was a weird mix of worry and naive assumption that we’d be back in an amount of time measured in weeks, not months. When the first month passed and it was clear that life was being up-ended in a truly profound way, it felt unreal. The worry about just taking care of our primary living needs often derailed thoughts about work. I did my best, but sometimes it felt silly to be concerned about keeping up on my electronic filing when it felt like the whole world was falling apart.

I tried and failed, then tried some more, to find my groove at home. It’s ironic to find that I’m now really getting my footing – FINALLY – just as I’m prepping to go back. The problems ranged from where to work in my living space, to how to sit, where to sit, what to use as a chair for the long days at my laptop and how to work without a printer. I got good at keeping things fully paperless, which I count as a benefit that I’ll carry back to the office with me. I’ve come to realize that sitting at home in a comfy chair sounds better than reality as far as my back and my weight are concerned.

I love being here with my kitties and my ducks and chickens. I love being home during the day, close to my Spicy Ginger, but still able to be productive for work.

But I miss the office, too. I miss seeing my coworkers and the ebb and flow of our office, even though I haven’t had much time to settle in there. I was only there about 4 1/2 months before we were sent home, so really I’ve had more time here at home as a part of my team than I had there in the office. Leaving here to go back to that physical location feels odd, like it’s this massive change and my brain is still trying to wrap around it.

Added to that change is my new attempt to take on a couple of small part-time jobs for extra income. Hello to being back in my 20s without the energy! I’ve signed up for Amazon Flex and Instacart. I’m still waiting on a couple of things to go through, then I’ll start working extra hours for those services. It means more obligation and use of my time, added to working full time and kids and chores and flock and self-care. I’m not super great at any of these individual areas, so I figure adding in the extra work is just one more to-do on a long list of them.

I don’t do well with change. Maybe it seems like I thrive on it because of my endless cycle of weirdness with my jobs or my general lack of attention-span, so I realize that it may sound weird coming from me. But seriously…. I hate change. It takes me so long to get used to things and I’m so incredibly needy where a consistent routine is concerned that change is oftentimes painful for me. I need growth and something to strive for – as do we all – but I need it to be a natural part of the routine of my world – not some kind of random thing that abruptly interrupts my flow.

I’m a picky critter.

I will also admit that I love having the control over my time and my general groove here at the house. I shower when it fits in my schedule. I know that I have the option to rest if needed and will resume work after resting with no massive drama. The office is a much more strict space, with social norms and a tight schedule of 8-5 or in my case, 8:30-5:30. I like being the commander of my own ship, as it were, and being home gives me more latitude.

Still, not having this desk/table/workspace in my living room will be lovely. Seeing my coworkers each day will be lovely. Having a strict separation between worklife and homelife will be lovely.

It’s not all one or the other. The positives and the negatives of both work from home and work from office are variable, even from day to day.

Still… I will miss my kitties. And I’ll miss my kids or more specifically, I’ll miss my youngest. Oldest is moving out next month and when youngest isn’t in school, it will be just him and the cats here each day. I wonder if it will be lonely? Or maybe my Super Introvert Child will be thrilled with the peace and quiet.

It’s time to get back to work and let go of this musing. I have a lot to do before Monday morning. It’s both exciting and unnerving to be heading back.

Oooh, I just realized one more piece that I will miss! No more gazing out my front windows to watch Spicy Ginger as he works during the day. And now I’m sad just a bit.

Sigh…

Moonfire

Despite All My Rage…

Happy 4/20 folks.

Smashing Pumpkins nailed it with that song, didn’t they?

I love this line in particular: “The world is a vampire, sent to drain”

Love helps. The peaceful living here at our little mini-commune in our city does help. Our animals and the care we give them helps, too.

Family… friends… it all makes this more bearable, but when I look at the small house listed for rent just across the street from us and I hear that it’s listed for $2000 per month (seriously!), I want to stand on the street corner and scream at everyone to make it all stop.

Wages here do NOT support rents that high. What the hell is going on? Housing is necessary to live. Period. My rent will go up for July 1. I’ve taken on second jobs to ensure that we will be ok. I’m a mid-career professional with a Master’s degree and this is what I’ve had to do.

X has to live with his sister because his reasonable, but low, salary as a sys admin doesn’t enable him to afford to rent a small place here. He has more than 10 years experience in IT. He is turning 50 this year and he has to live with family because housing is pricing normal folks out of the market.

So I think my anger and anxiety mix are well-founded. In the 90s I had a banking job where I made $8.20 an hour. I took home less than $1000 per month and my part of the shared housing I had with roommates was about $200 per month, with utilities included in that cost. I didn’t have kids to support and I did sometimes work extra jobs but I was in my 20s and it was ok.

Now my rent is almost 1/2 of my take home and it will go up in July. It could possibly go up to over 1/2 of my take home pay. You might respond about finding a lower cost place to live but that is next to impossible for folks due to deposits, first and last months’ rents, and application fees. It can easily cost $3000-4500 to move into a new place and coming up with that amount is almost impossible for people who are seeing 35-50% of their take-home go directly to rent (not including utilities).

I won’t leave this place – not just because of those factors but also because I’m close to Spicy Ginger and we have our animals and the peace of living here. This means my housing option places me into the category where I will stick it out no matter what.

I’m lucky that my landlord is a good human and I’m hopeful he won’t kill my budget. (Crossing fingers)

And now my anger/frustration/anxiety about what is happening here is just petering out and all that is left is fatigue again. I wish I would win some money so I could buy this property and the units here. It’s as likely to happen as pigs are to fly.

And on that note, I think I will get back to work. At least that is less stressful.

Moonfire

Spiciness

Last night I wanted to curl up like a cat on Spicy Ginger’s lap. I was wiped out – exhausted from the work day – and he looked and smelled like the best possible cat nip.

While I was getting my nails done (and boy, just did not think I would ever say that!), I told the ladies there about how Spicy Ginger’s feet are sexy. They were blown away. Right? Who has ever heard of sexy feet?!

I like to bite his butt, too. Weird, isn’t it?

He makes me laugh. He makes me sigh. Holding hands with him is wonderful but so are hugs with him and kisses, too.

Time for coffee and work.

Moonfire

Butterfly Brain

I can only breathe out of one side of my nose. My chest feels so heavy that breathing just feels… like work? Is that what I mean? I’m exhausted and the pressure with work is weighty, meaty and almost relentless. Naturally my mind – my thoughts – can’t seem to settle. There is so much to do and process and attend to, all at once, that my brain keeps flitting from one thing to another, in these little spurts of tiny energy.

I’m going to wrap something up right now and send it out, for no other reason than time is passing and it has to happen. It won’t be perfect and I can’t get all the information into the spreadsheet because I don’t have it, but the federal agency has to do their review, so I have to send it.

My perfectionism is battling my fatigue, which drives the flitting from subject to subject.

My sense of obligation is even worse. Kids, Work, Health… Kids, Health, Work… and so on, in an endless, revolving litany of worry and fear of forgetting some critical thing.

Through it all is the thread of fatigue because my brain has kept this up for weeks now and it’s not resolved – won’t be resolved any time soon.

I feel the tightness in my chest and the discomfort in the back of my left arm – the difficulty breathing – and the weight of it all – and I want to go back to bed to sleep through it.

Instead, I’ll take a few deep breaths and send out the first thing, then go get a chai with oat milk and do the next thing.

Moonfire

Ginger Love

I’m still struggling and the kids are still having a rough time, but I can take a moment to express some super Ginger Love going on for me.

Spicy Ginger got his hair cut yesterday. Damn. Those curls… I love putting my hands into his hair. Speaking of hands… I love touching his hands. Even now, almost 2 years after our spicy reunion, he still gives me that weak-kneed feeling when I hold hands with him.

And how the hell does someone have sexy feet? Seriously. His feet are sexy. I’m watching him outside right now and he still looks like a big kid to me. He mentioned that one of his friends said he was like Huckleberry Finn when he was younger. I have no trouble imagining him with white paint smears, a cocky grin, and that subtle con job he is able to pull on all of us around him so that we end up doing projects before we even know what’s up.

I know things are a bit rough for me right now and I’m struggling to deal with my own weird health issues on top of what the kids are coping with, but when I see him and touch him and kiss him? So much of that just evaporates into nothing. He teases me about being so sickly and I know it’s probably frustrating, since he is so damned healthy all the time. What he doesn’t know is how good he is for my heart and body. Moving in across from him, into this place that really is like a peace of Heaven in the midst of our small city, is probably the best thing I’ve ever done for myself (outside of losing a bunch of weight when I was younger).

I don’t sit and think only about the future when I’m living here. I live in the moment and I have a sense of peace that is profound. He is a big part of that peace, which is kind of funny because he is a curious mix of light and dark in how he sees the world. I don’t get drawn into his darkness (mostly), since I have my own to contend with, but boy does his light and spirit lift me up. Perhaps my favorite thing about him is his love for animals. When I watch him holding our baby chicks with that tender care I feel an incredible sense of rightness. We share stories about the adventures of our animals when we see each other and, in fact, just had a little conversation about the mated pair of wild ducks that have joined our flock for the last few days. They weren’t around this morning, saddening me as I missed them. He came to my door just now and let me know that they were back, snoozing in the back grassy area. I padded out in my pink slippers to take a peek and sure enough, there they were, curled up next two each other.

Living in a conservative state when you’re a queer atheist with Rainbow Kids is kind of shit, but living here with a partner next door who makes me feel both loved and sexy offsets the downsides. I wish that we had a healthy amount of funds and could just retire and travel together, exploring the world as well as keeping our animals in a space that doesn’t require hoping that our landlord keeps accepting them.

I joked last night with X that the only thing I’m missing here are my miniature goats and while yes, that was a joke, there was also an element of truth to it. The days when I can be outside, working with the animals (even when it’s cold) are the days that best lift my spirit to where it should be. I’m hellishly busy with work right now, which means being chained to a desk so I can work and I’d much prefer to put on my boots and my warm jacket and get outside. Spicy is tromping around out there as I write this, getting his stuff done and prepping to go work on one of the property sites. I know there are downsides to the life he leads, as there are with all things, but some days I ache to be able to do the same.

Sitting here, all lumpish and tired and feeling sickly isn’t the way a human being should live. And while I have no attention span, Spicy is well able to keep me on task. He’s a good boss and leader on projects. My younger self got testy with him when he would get all bossy and directing with me. My older self appreciates that he knows what he’s doing and how to do it well, so I’m an eager listener and take that direction better.

I suppose that’s enough writing for today. I need to wrap up these damned grant applications and get them off my desk for the final review process. My head is hurting for day three. My chest is tender and my lungs feel like they are full of wet cotton balls. I want to shake off the fatigue that is pressing down on me and get this stuff done since delaying it only increases my anxiety level and I sure as hell don’t need that.

Here’s to a cold, windy April afternoon. May I be productive and get through my stuff.

Moonfire

What Is Normal Anyway?

I’ve got squeaky cats and a work to-do list that is overwhelming. It’s cold today, after having had some sweet balmy days with sunshine and warmth, so I’m a touch out of sorts. I’m taking a brief lunch break so I can eat, take my meds, and get back to the tasks that have to be wrapped up today. It sounds so simple when I put it that way, like it will be an easy clickety-clack on the keyboard and poof, the work will be done.

It’s not, though, so I’m doing more than just eating my lunch. I’m drinking a hot, slightly caffeinated drink and I’m pondering the fact that Oldest is at work, while Youngest is once again home sick from school.

Is there even such a thing as “Normal” anymore? I think a bunch of people – most, in fact – thought that as soon as the vaccines were available, everything would just return to pre-pandemic ways of life. That’s not what is happening and worse still, numbers are creeping up because of stupid behavior.

But even if life could just magically go back to that pre-pandemic state, I’m not sure that every single one of us will be able to go back to the way things were. I don’t like crowds now. I didn’t before, but now it’s really big. I don’t like the way wealthy people got wealthier during the pandemic, while a bunch of people lost what little they did have. I don’t like that fast food workers were kept at the front of the line as “essential” but are still paid crappy wages and aren’t recognized for being there while so many got to hunker down and protect themselves. Same goes for grocery store workers and all the other folks who couldn’t isolate at home without going unpaid (like my daughter experienced).

Every time my tongue gropes around in the hole in my mouth where a tooth should be, I get mad again. Every time I look at the news or media stories about the wealthy, I get mad again. It’s not jealousy. It’s just anger. It’s anger over the fact that a LOT of folks struggle just to keep decent shelter over their heads and food on their tables while the wealthy do absolutely stupid and unnecessary shit.

I was talking to Spicy Ginger this weekend, as we were tending to our feathered flock, and I said that I hope our landlord doesn’t raise my rent by $100 per month when my lease is up. Really? I hope he doesn’t raise it more than $50 per month, as anything more than that will be hard to absorb in my budget. $100 per month will cut into my food budget. There’s a thought, eh?

The hot drink is soothing my spirits, though, so my emotional “temperature” is dropping. I’ll probably be fine to regroup after I finish the drink and then get my work finished up. Oldest will hopefully get through the work day with no misadventures and Youngest is sleeping, so he’ll feel better in a few hours (crossing fingers). The kitties got their wet food and are quietly grooming themselves, so maybe this small moment of quiet is actually what normal can feel like.

I hope the sunshine comes back out and the breeze warms up.

Moonfire