I hate to have to do this.
I don’t want to talk about it, write about it, complain about it…But fuck, I am freaking out about money. The stark reality of having one income instead of two is currently unnerving me.
With a legal separation and with a divorce, come separate finances. Separate incomes, bills, utilities, mortgages, rents, credit cards. You are expected to divvy up the retirement accounts, savings, etc. My career was never ever supposed to be the only source of income. I AM A PRESCHOOL TEACHER. I got my ‘almost’ MA (3 courses shy) in Early Childhood Education when we were newly married, to supplement my husband’s substantial income and to have vacations and summers off with our children.
How am I supposed to survive on a salary that tops out at 25,000 a year?! Most of the jobs posted online here in the Denver area pay 10-15 dollars an hour. I feel like crying – this is the one thing sending me over the edge right now. My mortgage is $1500 a month, I have $200 a month in student loans, bills out the wazoo, and a house and children to take care of. Groceries! Clothing! Living! WTF! And yes, I can expect help from my husband, he isn’t kicking me to the curb (thank God), in the form of child and spousal support – but what happens when that runs out? I don’t even have my own health insurance – I am covered under his plan.
He will be paying rent on his new place starting this month and things are about to get really fucking tight. One more burden to bear. One more ridiculous thing to have to try to explain to the kids. “Why can’t we rent that movie on Amazon, mommy?” “Because we have to save money, kids.” They are still confused as to why their dad no longer lives here with us, for Christ’s sake! No more ordering pizza. No more trips to local museums, no more random purchases here and there. We are on financial lock down and I have no desire to add to their list of shitty things to worry about.
But I am worried. I am frightened. What if the only job I can find requires that I work vacations and summers? I have been home with them every summer since they were born. That alone makes me want to crawl back into my cave and curl up into the fetal position. What if I can’t afford this house that we love and we need to move? My kid’s lives are already out of whack. Part-time with each parent. Going from one house to another. No predictable anything for a while at least. And then what? I am supposed to cart them off to summer camp and pay for that too?
What the flying fuck universe?? This simply sucks. Why can’t someone pay me to write from my heart and from my soul from my cozy bed? Yep, I am actually whining. And I am okay with that in this moment.
I know, chin-up! (Cue fabulous eye-roll).
At some point, I will pick myself up and find a fucking great job that hopefully will sustain this lifestyle for myself and my kids. But for now, I am going to just sit in this shit and stress out. And mutter under my breath “FUCK THIS SHIT” as often as I damn well please.
This too shall pass. I hope.