This week is declared National Figure Out How To Make Grown-Up Money week. I'm devoting myself, all swollen itchy breasted bubble stomached 155 pounds 5 foot 7 inches of me, to moving toward my goal of not being The Working Poor anymore. Tangible steps must be taken, which can include speaking to a person about how they did xyz, checking into a college, emailing a question geared towards moving me toward the goal, and cannot include abandoning myself to delirious daydreaming about such frills as affording health insurance for my whole family, paying bills before the absolute last possible day or ELSE, replacing my husband's tennis shoes before the rips in the sides actually hang over his feet, paying Lola's Brownie fees on time and canceling our trash pick up so we can avoid having that monthly expense. Dakota's first cavity got fixed a month and half ago. The next one was canceled twice, so far, and I'd like to afford it before it becomes a root canal.
I've never ever been able to come up with a career goal that didn't make me sick with despair. I haven't been able to think of anything that makes a livable income which also wouldn't drive me to a higher zoloft dose and large amounts of red wine. Writing is and always will be my first love, what I have dreamed of doing professionally since age 5. I might have been able to make a living at it, had I started at the 'normal age' and finished school, but getting pregnant at 19 and becoming completely totally and thunderstruck in love with my baby boy changed all that. I worked full time as a nanny, making poverty level wages- less than minimum wage per hour- and went to school at night while my mom watched Dakota, but in the end the grind won, and my classes got fewer, stress and stressful events piled up, my illness sapped my energy and focus, and I finally came to a stuttering halt 3 classes short of my Associates Degree- 2 maths and one Biology Lab.
Speech Pathology. This is what I'm thinking of. I am still working on my novel and expect to complete it before baby arrives. I must also decide on a reasonable career goal day job, and begin heading that way. Speech Pathology doesn't bore me to tears, makes a liveable wage, is always open for job opportunities, and I could do a year and half program and begin working- after achieving my AA. I have to figure out how to afford my AA classes. They are cheap at the local community college, but even cheap is more than we have. So working on that. Also have to figure out how the hell I'm going to pay for year and half of school when California has a worse bank account than I do. I'm negatively thinking that the school won't be able to completely cover my costs. Job for tomorrow: call the college that has the Speech Language Program.
My aunt is a Speech Pathologist and her career has moved forward at a nice rate, and also stayed fresh and ripe with new research and applications, which I must have to stay happy. I have to take Statistics to get the SP degree and this is TERRIFYING. I am worse at math than my sons are at cleaning. That's bad. With a weekly tutor I can manage, another financial obstacle: paying for tutor. Without tutor, I flunk. Trust me. I tried. More. Than. Once.
Outside of this, I feel lice crawling on my head all the time, but when I look, I see nothing.
I'm fine!
xo
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
National Figure Out How To Make Grown-Up Money Week
Posted by
Maggie May
Labels:
lifemoneycareerspeechpathologylice
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