It’s like the Veggie Patch*, but in reverse

The phrase “dysfunctional dynamic” keeps playing through my head. It’s probably a chapter title in a book I need to stop talking about and start writing. But I will say that it’s something I witnessed a lot throughout my life and do not miss.

I’m thinking that this forced hiatus from the workplace is rather fortuitous in its timing. My mom is not doing well. And while I know I should be pounding the pavement to secure my next paycheck, I also know that I need to take advantage of this time and get her health taken care of. Before it’s too late. Which, it’s looking like it could already be.

And when it all comes down to it, no matter how much I’ve complained (and I’ve done a lot of that) about the over-extended extra-terrestrial being from outer space blah blah blah, she’s been my No. 1 fan for 36 years. Can’t say the same about anyone else. And I need my champion to be around when things start going right again and I can get back on track with achieving my life’s goals.

That’s another thing that irks me, moving on to life goals here. That there are people who can keep us from them. Like, I really do want to adopt. And right now I have to budget my Paris fund (yep, that’s all I’ve got, folks) on getting myself, my mom and my cat through this unexpected phase of no money coming in.

And while that’s nobody’s responsibility but mine, it kills me that I was lulled into a sense of security … that I felt like I could travel and eat nice meals and, for once, LIVE A LITTLE … but it was all a mirage.

And in sniffing around for my next opportunity, I have to get excited over being told that I have to leave Florida to take this job. Or to take a $30,000 pay cut for that job. Since when did moving up in the world mean having to apologize for being worth what you’re paid and working from where you want to live?!?!

The mind, it boggles.

I mentioned to mom about the ridiculous pay cuts in store if I take this or that. And she said that’s a load of crap because that means compromising my own goals. How will I get to Paris on X per year now? How will I adopt that adorable brother/sister pair (ages 4 and 6 — I can see it now) who are waiting for me to get my shit together?

I’m not saying I was in love with the way things were just one month ago. I just wanted to figure out how to make things right. It took me nine months to learn the business. I was finally starting to understand who the players are and what they’re capable of.

And while my own role was nothing but a big question mark to me, I figured that if I could leverage my own strengths with everyone else’s, we’d rock the house. And in a way, I’m angry that my chance was cut short. But in another way, I know they won’t get where I was going to take them without a “me.”

Alas, as much as I wanted my mom to find her own way without me, it never happened. So I hope that it isn’t too late to help her … and something tells me this will be the hardest job of them all. But it will be the only one that’s still there for me at the end of the day. And in that, I feel like I’ve finally gotten my priorities straight.

(*Remember when blogging got me fired? It’s refreshing to be fired and THEN start blogging!)

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