December 17: Resentment, "Carol" Dip, Job

I have a confession:  there is a part of me that resents the fact that my wife is able to stay home and take care of our children.  I know she didn't choose to be pink slipped.  The day she lost her job, she called me, crying, and said, "I'm not sad about getting fired.  I'm sad about not being able to help you with money.  I know how hard you work."  All I think about right now is how to pay the next bill or buy the next Christmas present.

Since she joined the ranks of the unemployed, my wife has been visiting my son's classrooms and going to Bible study at church on Tuesdays.  She's catching up on the laundry, and dinner is usually made by the time I get home from work.  But, when my alarm goes off at 4 a.m. every morning and I have to drag myself out of bed, there's a part of me that gets a little bit angry.  I can't remember the last time I slept past 6:30 a.m.  I'm tired.  I was thinking of canceling my vacation at the beginning of January because I could earn a lot of overtime pay if I worked, but I can't bring myself to do it.  I am really looking forward to having two full weeks off.  Now, I feel guilty about my vacation.

I've said before that I know I'm lucky for having the jobs that I do.  Not many Americans have jobs that give them health insurance and paid time off and vision coverage.  Many people would kill for the kind of benefits that I have.  I'm lucky.  I'm blessed.  I'm grateful.  There, I've said all the things I should say.

But I'm still resentful and tired.  I don't want to get up at 4 a.m. for the rest of my working life.  I want a normal existence.  One job with decent hours and pay and benefits.  Of course, my choice would be to work for the university as a full-time instructor.  It's the one thing I do in my professional life that provides me with a sense of fulfillment.  I love being on campus and teaching.

I bet you can guess what my question for Carol dip Monday is going to be:

Will I get a full-time teaching job at the university this coming year?

And the answer (although I don't hold out too much hope) from Scrooge and company is:

...What's Christmas time to you but a time for paying bills without money; a time for finding yourself a year older, but not an hour richer; a time for balancing your books and having every item in 'em through a round dozen months presented dead against you?

Hmmmmm.  Paying bills without money.  Balancing my books and having every item for a year listed as a debt or liability.  Sounds pretty bleak.

Looks like Saint Marty's going to be setting his alarm to 4 a.m. for another year.

My least favorite time of day