Remember that song? (I was looking for a job, and then I found a job and heaven knows I'm miserable now. In my life, why do I give valuable time to people who don't care if I live or I die?) The Smiths, late 80's. Anyhow, that's the song I sang to Richard when he came home once a couple of weeks ago after being offered a job. I must have caught onto his lack of enthusiasm, though I was mostly kidding. But after he spent a restless night of mentally reviewing what it was he is looking for in a job, he decided to withdraw his acceptance before going on to the security clearance. As nice as it would be to know what we are doing and where we will be, my husband having a job that doesn't suck the life out of him is more important. He found himself pulled into the swift moving current of a fast-talking, overly-confident Texan. And before you can say "oil money", he had accepted a job he didn't really want, just because they wanted him. So he learned his lesson.
I also told myself I wasn't going to get my hair cut until he got a job. And now I'm dealing with some major split enz (yuck yuck...maybe I can throw in a few more 80's references just to increase my cringe factor). I know I'm a weirdo about these things. I like to have some sort of physical change (a haircut, a henna design, etc.) to go with life changes. My babies all gave me stretch marks, so I didn't need to go out of my way for that. Probably a good thing that I never got into piercings or tattoos. I guess I don't feel the need to mark these changes in a permanent way. I didn't have much choice about the stretch marks though.
It's been interesting anyhow. He's talking to new people every week, trying to assess if it's a good fit. There is a lot of need out there for the sort of work he does. Generally in big cities. We've watched Portland appear, disappear and reappear into sight. And the weirdest thing is that I've been ok with all the unknowing and daily fluctuations. Maybe because I stay away from torturing myself about "God's will" these days. Why? Because he's with us all the time. He often forewarns us. And I'm beginning to get it into my head that he might be asking and be interested in what we want to do.
It's still strange to me that we are even in this position. I feel quite spoiled. Yesterday (the summer solstice) marks the 17th anniversary of the great Connemara camping trip. That is when I was invited to go along camping with some new friends in the (perpetually rainy) Irish countryside. Among them, I got to know this English guy named Richard, and basically we haven't been apart since. I always joke with him that I just married him for his money. Because about all he had back then was a backpack, a tent and a change of clothes.
Why do I always feel like I'm supposed to wind up or summarize these blog posts with something that will pull this whole mess of thoughts together? Like the sociology papers I used to write in college. But I think that just isn't happening this time. I'll try to write a little more often though. Ok?
totally remember that song. going camping with new friends in the perpetually rainy Irish countryside sounds so gorgeous....
Posted by: brenda e | June 28, 2008 at 07:39 PM