I’m sitting in Wholefoods typing this post, sipping a peppermint soy chai and trying desperately to relax. While buying some spices I got talking to a guy from Guyana, and he had such a joyful, laid-back vibe that I could have burst into tears. “Joyful” and “laid-back” are the last words anyone would use to describe me right now. This guy was in his early fifties but looked twenty years younger! Damn, I know black don’t crack but I’ve never seen anybody look that much younger than their actual age. People usually think I look about five years younger than I am, but for how much longer? I feel so stressed out that I’m surprised there aren’t deep worry lines etched into my face.
Ever since my last blog post, I’ve just been working my arse off so I can afford to take off with “MM” on Christmas Eve to the Midwestern city where he grew up. We’re going to buy a car up there (it belongs to his stepdad’s mother, who’s ancient, so it’s a total deal because it’s got hardly any miles on it, and it’s practically brand new), and then drive it all the way back to The Land of Republican Wankers. We’ll be gone for around ten days and, well, erotic masseuses don’t exactly get holiday pay, so I’m even more stressed about money than I am usually. How will I manage to find the money for my rent; my bills; the cat sitter; flights for my two dogs (yup, they’re coming with me); the few remaining Christmas presents I have left; gas/food/motel money for the trip back etc., etc., etc., etc???!!!!
I’m so worn out, and I wonder when any of this will ever come to an end? Will there ever be a day when I’ll just be able to come home and not worry. I heard back from “New York City Teaching Fellows” a few days ago, and they’ve offered me an interview. This is good news, of course, but even if they accept me that doesn’t mean everything will be OK. They expect you to move to New York at some point in June where you have to attend a full-time, *unpaid* training academy for around to six to seven weeks! How will I ever survive in NYC for that length of time with no money? How will I ever manage to transport myself and seven pets to New York? More to the point, how will I ever find a place to live for me, “MM” and seven pets in NYC?!
All of the above would be do-able if I knew there was a job for me at the end of it all, but NYCTF doesn’t guarantee a job, which means I could very well move to NY and be jobless!
I don’t know why I’m worried about this now when I’ve not even had the interview. I have enough present worries without adding possible future stresses to the mix.
“MM” is one of them. We had our very first couple’s counselling session last Wednesday, and while we obviously couldn’t cover all that much in only one session, it was an enormous relief to me to have somebody to help me. I feel that “MM” unfairly blames me for everything, and there is no way he will ever see that if we are left to our own devices. He wears me out. I just can’t take it anymore. I need someone to mediate our arguments.
Yesterday’s session was not so fruitful, however, in that it ended up with me bursting into tears, and us walking out of the building separately at the end of the session. This afternoon I received a whiny, self-pitying, angry email from “MM” blaming me for something over which I don’t have much control.
I really have no idea if I love “MM”. It’s possible I do, but that the stress I’m under maybe just obscures my feelings for him. Sometimes I just think to myself that I will stay with him until I get my ten-year permanent resident card, and then I’ll divorce his sorry, whiny ass. When I first met “MM”, I thought he was good for me because he seemed more optimistic, and laid-back, but in the last six months or so I’ve seen a side of him I don’t especially like. He’s such a moody, bad- tempered bastard. I would never have married him if I knew he was like this.
I suppose there is one thing to be thankful for, though. If I think life is stressful now, it would be a million times worse if I were here illegally, which is what would have happened if I hadn’t married “MM” before my visa ran out. Life may be hard now but at the least my future permanent resident status means I can apply to teaching programs, and improve my lot a little.
Wholefoods is mercifully not playing any Christmas music, so it’s time to get out of here before they do. I’m sorry if all I ever do is bitch about the same old stuff every time I write, but unfortunately “the same old stuff” is what’s on my mind at the moment, so you’ll just have to bear with me until that changes. Let’s hope it does.
Composed on my iPhone, so please excuse any typos!