I am scared to death. I'm not afraid of working, but I sure highly dislike the process needed to go through to get there. I wish I could have done more with myself/for myself/with my life. Perhaps my expectations were too high; if only I knew what those expectations were.
I guess it really says something when you look at Joe and I - or at least the way we turned out "career-wise". That is to say, what career? At least so could point to not having gone to college.
...and that's just talking, or at least thinking about "getting" a job. I don't know how convoluted the process will be. I have a pretty good idea that it won't be quite as easy as Joe and Shelly tend to think, just putting down "Mr. Mom" under employment (so to speak) for 8.5 years. Sure, Mr. Troutt - we understand. You're hired. Or "You got the assignment".
No, first I must do whatever it takes to make sure we keep this house and can pay our bills. I swear, sometimes I can just put it out of my mind for a minutes - put then I think about the enormity of the task ahead. And I just want to puke.
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