Crack that whip

There's this thing that I do, but kind of try to ignore and never mention in print. I don't want it to be part of my identity, don't want to be identified with it. Friends and family are in the know, of course, but we keep it in the, "you're only doing this right now, because you have to," category. We do not allow it to be me, something I own. It's an ugly little thing....

I work.

Confused? There are many reasons this is a problem. #1, I never really wanted to. Not that I am lazy or interested in free-loading, but I have a low tolerance for any kind of daily schedule or routine. Truly, I can really suck at the basics of employment. I'm late, unorganized, tired, depressed, obsessive about how much I suck.... really I'm just not cut out for most jobs.
#2. Most of my peer group does not work. Wait. Are we peers if we don't match on something as major as being employed? Okay, save that one for later, but, I mean, my best friends don't have jobs outside the home. They are homeschooling mothers at varying levels of granola-hood. I want to be them and have that life, so I homeschool my kids, but I failed to make sure I wouldn't have to work during this adventure. Now I work, badly, and I homeschool, also badly. Homeschooling could be really cool, and I feel my kids are still better off, but wow, it could be so much better.
#3. The work I do...is what plenty of smart yet under-alphabetized (as in, degree-less) folks do. I manage. I used to manage a video store, these days I'm managing a mobile home park. My family lives here, gratis, and we earn a small monthly salary. I live where I work. I live in a mobile home in a funky, all-age mobile home park. None of these things makes me feel very good most of the time. Like the way I deal with my body , I don't like how my life looks, so I spend a great deal of time not really seeing it, making sure I pass by reflective surfaces, or moments, quickly and from the best angle. Also, I look far too long at things I wish I had or did and sometimes I take that stuff on as if I had the where-with-all, the funds, the whatever. I forget who I am and what my current status in my life is. Or, maybe I used to do that and we're still living with the consequences. Hmm.

This is sad though, because when I'm in the moment, taking care of a great resident, confounding a bad one, having 5 minute conversations with the owner that take 2 hours because we only email and never call... I can be pretty happy. I have a sea of neighbors, most of whom I love and care about. My god, the stories from our four years here.... how can I pretend this isn't real? Or important? How can I keep telling myself how bad I am at this if I'm still here?

More later. This is a big thing. For now, gratuitous cute: