Imposition.

I realize that my blog tends to be a practice in contradiction..  One day I'm writing about how I'm all set to pull myself together, find a job, or go back to school and move forward with my life.  I'm ready to stop blaming others for my situation, and take care of myself!   A week later, I'm down in the dumps, with no hope in sight, and no means of digging out. 

Today I was trolling the local newspaper's online job search page.  Not one job listed seemed like something that I could do.. further, none seemed like they'd be enough to cover daycare for the boys and/or health insurance for us making it worth it to change my current status.  Obviously, I can't know that for sure just from glancing over the ads, but it looked grim.  Health insurance is the big make or breaker for me.  I can't get a job "on the books" if it doesn't have 100% coverage that I don't have to pay for--- unless the salary is sufficient enough to cover daycare AND insurance.  It's kind of a catch 22 really.  The medicare that I receive right now does not allow for you to earn more than something like $1200/month. Once you earn more than that, you have to pay for your coverage out of pocket. Discouraging, to say the least.  Who can live on less than $1200 in New York?  That doesn't even cover minimum monthly bills, let alone rent.  Not to mention the crazy debts that I am paying off slowly month after month, courtesy of my ex's habits.  But enough about the technicalities of it all. Point is, it's all bringing me down today.

I brought the boys to visit John this weekend.  The boys deserve to have overnights with their dad, and since I don't trust him alone with them, that means I stay too.  We stayed there from Friday afternoon until Sunday evening.   While visiting my ex-husband for 3 days isn't my favorite way to spend a weekend, sometimes it beats being here.. in my parent's house.  And by my parent's house, I mean under my Mother's ruling.  Somedays she is more than I can take.  Today is one of them. Within minutes of coming downstairs this morning, she commented about the fact that when I carried the boys in from the car last night through the rain, I didn't take of my shoes, thus dirtying the rugs she had cleaned while we were away. I don't think she realizes how she sounds sometimes, but right now, I don't care.  It's off-putting.  She makes it very clear how I ruin her house and her lifestyle by being here.  You might think that the house is an immaculately kept, clutter free home based on how she drones on and on about what needs to be cleaned and put away and so on and so on.  It's not. It's a veritable shit storm.  Right now, all of the boy's toys and things are either in their room, or the back porch (playroom). Yet, I feel claustrophobic in this living room.  There is a stack of papers to my right on top of the printer. Mostly travel brochures with information about the many trips my parents have either been on, or are planning on.  The current trip my mother is obsessed with is a cruise to the Mediterranean in September.  A two week cruise to some of the most beautiful parts of the world.  The other papers are mostly receipts and/or scraps of papers with item numbers, website addresses and phone numbers for all the online shopping she does.  There is no question that she has a shopping addiction.  When I say that there is not one day that passes without her buying something, I am NOT exaggerating.
I can count 8 tables in the tv room if you count cabinets and ottomans. 8.  Mismatched fabrics and textures everywhere you look.  Not because she has bad taste, but because she cannot throw away old things, and cannot stop buying new ones.  So they all get shoved together.

And all of these compulsions are fine.  They are her prerogative.  This is her house, and it is her money that she worked hard for, and can do with as she pleases.  I just wish she would stop making me feel like I am fucking up her pristine space.