Best laid plans of mice and men

You know, no matter what your plans are, it doesn't matter. No matter how good your intentions, it doesn't matter. No matter how thoughtful and thorough and detailed, it doesn't matter.

I did everything like I was supposed to do. I picked a vocation young (zookeeper) and stuck with it. Took the necessary courses in high school, graduated top of my class, got into the university of my choice. Did well in college. Maybe partied a bit much, but still graduated with a better than 3.0 GPA. I met my love while in school. We worked and saved and moved to Colorado. We got married. Then shit happened.

Fast forward through the shit that was not supposed to happen.

I finally get my dream job of being a zookeeper I worked so hard to get. I hated it. I quit after the summer was over.

We get back together. We live in a really nice place and we are bringing in enough money to be content. So we decide to have a child. I got pregnant right away and had a perfect little boy. Then shit happened.

Fast forward through the shit that was not supposed to happen.

I am a single mom. I am an only parent. I do not receive child support. I have a job that I never wanted.

I find a school program that I am interested in. And it is online, so I can do my course work while my son is sleeping. Perfect.

Then shit happened.

We can't fast forward through this shit, though, because it is currently happening.

I did it all right. I went to college, I did well in school, I got engaged and then married and then a decent income and then, and only then, a child. That is the right order. Married and then child. I was told if I worked hard and did what I was supposed to do, everything would work out. You know what? Good grades and good jobs and having a child within wedlock and continuing with school, that shit means nothing. It doesn't matter.

I had a plan. And this is not it.

What Is Going On Here?

With the holidays approaching, my mind turns to the presents I need to buy. Then I wonder how in the hell I will be able to buy said gifts. It is the 8th of the month and I still haven't paid rent. How can I catch up enough in the next few weeks? Guess we're going to dip into savings again.

I am planning on keeping gifts to a minimum this year. Try to knit a few things. Buy Ryder some much needed clothing instead of a bunch of toys, which he doesn't need. Of course I'll get him something to play with!

This then leads me to thinking about how much it costs me to get to work. Between daycare, the train pass, and parking, it is so much money. It makes me wonder why I come at all.

I called the Dept. of Revenue yesterday to find out about all the child support I have not received. They have no information. Just running his social daily. It is all that can be done. It really is not fair. I am struggling and raising our son, while he's doing god-knows-what. He is a fucking asshole.

Then I start thinking about how much I hate my job. I make just enough to mostly make it through, week by week. I have no idea what I would want to do, though. It's hard to look for a job when you don't know what you are looking for. So I do not look. I just try not to think about it. I just stay where I am and try not to complain too much.

I am stuck in a rut. Things need to change, but I do not know how to change them. I'll just sit here and cry, that'll probably help.

Too Much

I am having such mixed feelings right now. 

Ryder and I picked up an old friend and his girlfriend this afternoon.  The ex and I used to live with him when we were dating.  He was a lousy roommate, but that is for another time.

We picked them up and went to Chuck E. Cheese.  Apparently the rest of the seacoast had the same idea.  I practically had a panic attack just driving into the parking lot.  We had a lot of fun, even though it was quite overwhelming. 

The girlfriend is awesome, I really liked her.  At one point she took Ryder off and I got to talk to my friend.  He told me that he had spoken to the ex a couple days ago.  He is working in Connecticut.  I felt a little strange about talking about the ex to him, because I don't want to put him in the middle of anything.  Although, I think he likes it.  He was amused that he would be able to tell the ex that he hung out with his kid and ex-wife.  Makes me smile too.

We reminisced a bit about the fun that we had.  I filled both of them in on some of the shittier parts of the divorce.  I talked about Denver and my crazy father-in-law and when you know about him, Ryder never seeing his dad doesn't seem all that weird.

And we also saw a girlfriend of mine that I hadn't seen in about a year.

All this amidst the craziness of Chuck E. Cheese.

Let's review:

• Happy - seeing old friends, making new ones
• Good memories
• Bad memories
• Confused - do I want to know where the ex is?  What he is doing?
• Concerned - the ex suggested offing himself for the life insurance (old threat)
• Sympathetic about the ex's fucked up childhood
• Excited - going on vacation, making future plans with my friends.
• Stressed - large crowds

That is a lot of feelings to sort out.  Ryder and I drove the hour home in silence.  I am exhausted.  I want to talk it out but do not want to verbalize my feelings at the same time.  Verbalizing feelings validates them.  I do not want to work them out, I just want them to go away.

The Uncertain Future

This week's chosen prompt:

2.) When do you first imagine yourself wishing you were older or bigger? Write about it.  (writingfix.com)

 First of all, that question hurts my head a little.  Is it asking when was the first time I wished I was older?  Is it asking when do I think I would've been wishing?  Or is it asking when in the future will you be wishing?  I am going to assume the first.  Although I am not, in a way, going to answer it.

When I was younger, I did not think that I was ever going to get older or bigger.  I remember specifically in first grade looking at the third graders and trying to imagine myself as one of them.  I could not.  Therefore, I came to the conclusion that I would never be a third grader.  That I would die before then. 

When I was in third grade, I remember looking at sixth graders and not being able to picture myself as one of them, therefore believing that I was going to die before sixth grade.

This continued on.  Every year I assumed that I was going to die that year, due to the sole fact that I could not picture myself older. 

I am not really sure when this ended.  I am not really sure it has.  It just doesn't seem possible that I could ever be, say, 50.  So, if I am not ever going to be 50, then surely I will die before then.  Makes sense, right?

I'm not sure I've ever told anyone this....