Guest Post: Getting a job immediately, regretting it immediately

Fargo Kidder* is a graduate student, crafter, blogger, and dog lover.

Last time I wrote a post for SCOATS, I focused on my desire to take the plunge and become a creative entrepreneur. Two recent posts  by "a" made me realize I have something else the readers of this blog might be interested in: what happened to me after I followed my spouse.

I was a ball of nerves as my husband and I prepared to move for his job. Don't get me wrong, there were things about the job I had at the time that I was psyched to leave behind. I knew I'd miss my friends, but I had the consolation of knowing we were moving just a 5-hour drive from where we used to live. I really can go back and visit any time. Because we moved to a fun city, we've already got almost a dozen friends coming to visit us this summer. It's nice, too, that my husband's new job allows us to live in a bigger, multi-bed and bathroom apartment that can accommodate company, unlike our old 650-square-foot house. After living in our new city for six weeks, I can say I miss my friends, but it's not so bad.

So the house and friends situations are great, but the work situation is not. My husband will start his new job in a few weeks, and I've been working at mine for just over a month. It was a good thing we opted to move in early May, despite his job not starting until July because I hit what some would consider the traveling spouse jackpot (I discussed this a bit in my previous post, but I'll touch on it again). I landed a job that is just like my old job. It's full time, started six days after we moved, and hey, it pays better. Here's the rub. I know taking this job was absolutely the wrong choice. At the time I got the job offer, I had already planned to work an internship part time while taking my remaining courses online. I would have finished my degree in August and have been able to apply for jobs with a couple years of experience from my old job, as well as no real lapse in employment due to working an internship and going to school full time online. 

Not the guest blogger, but the face says it all.

I keep asking myself "what was I thinking" when I'm on a train commuting to my job in an overly privileged, whitewashed suburb. It's to the point that I've started making myself list five positive things about my situation as I walk from my train stop in to work every day. This only leads me to listing twenty things about how pathetic I feel before stress eating the free candy in my ridiculous staff lounge. So what was I thinking when I applied for, interviewed twice for, changed my whole personal grad school plan for, and accepted this job? I was scared, god dammit! This job let me feel, to a certain extent, that I was still in control of my situation. That I wasn't another early twenty-something, unemployed loser. It justified my following my husband. My husband will always make more money than I do. Between getting married (and no one respecting my choice not to change my name), following my husband, and knowing my lifestyle will always be dependent on his paycheck, I think I needed these two months before his new job starts to feel like I could take care of us. Knowing that I was the sole bread winner, even just for a little while, is something I think I'll always be able to cling to when people call me Mrs. Wronglastname instead of Ms. Me. Or when I'm the armequin (silent mannequin on my husband's arm) at some terrible event that we "should" go to, it doesn't matter because I know that I can, and did, take care of us for two months after we moved. 

Interesting. I didn't realize til I wrote these thoughts down that the last two months will mean a lot to me long term. Maybe taking this job was the right choice at the time. I maintain, however, that I will GTFO the burbs asap. I will find a way to be a creative entrepreneur.

Today, I was originally intending to explore how I can leave this job without bruising my professional reputation too much. I've been there six weeks, and I plan on staying through September, for a total of three months. I've been keeping my eye on some job boards since I feel like it will be easier to leave this job if I had the excuse of "well, I wasn't feeling like this was a good fit and I got this other offer." But then I'll be jumping right into ANOTHER job. Honestly, I feel like I need a break. I have been triple-dipping my life in the part-time/online grad school, full time job, and blogging buckets for too long. My personal life suffers. I'm supposed to lose twenty pounds for my health this summer, and I don't know how to do that while working this much. It's hard to trust my perception of how I feel about anything when I'm this swamped. UGH. What to do?

---

*Ha! Still with that terrible pseudonym. I crack me up.

Who cares what people think? The people being crapped on!

My biggest problem I struggle with on this blog is identity.  Now, identity doesn't have to do with anything outside of myself, so my problem is that I personally do tie outside opinion in with how I view myself.  If I didn't, then I'd say "fuck all!" to convention and do my thing.  I just have this niggling desire to change perceptions.

As to the title, it's easy to say, "Just be yourself!" when who you are isn't questioned or judged by society at large.  Fargo Kidder*, from yesterday's guest post, wrote about how wanting to work from home and have a craft business is very tied to women who have children, and include that in their blogging.  It's assumed that a woman with her own business is being supported by a husband, or is doing it while she's taking care of kids.  There is nothing wrong with doing those things, and you don't need to hear it from me.  It's the assumption that galls me.

How is it possible not to stumble under the weight of assumptions?  What would happen if the weight was lifted?

I want to smash that assumption. I want to rend the connotations from the things I want to do that genders them female, that presupposes I can't do things on my own, that says they are less valuable than things a man does, that assumes working from home means you don't have a real job**.  I want to stand as an example of being just as independent, industrious and fucking awesome as men are assumed to be by default.  I want to live my live as a person, not a marked other. 

Problem is, one can't live her live a monolith, especially if no one's looking.  And all this shit I don't like isn't going to change in my lifetime, so I should probably do a little of what I wanna do and not care about what people think.  When I first started reading about feminism, I was so angry (as well a person should be) but it took me a while to  learn to temper my anger with the wrongs of the world with happiness of what's right, and that was a painful time.  You can only fight against bad stuff for so long if you don't take time for some good stuff.  You'll burn out.

I only have one life, and I need two.  One to smash through the glass ceiling, and another to enjoy the fresh air above it.

*I'm still gagging at how bad that pseudonym is. Never let me make them up for you.

**Why is everything we do have to be tied with being mothers?  Even if it has nothing to do with children? 

Guest Post: Did I mention..?

Fargo Kidder* is a graduate student, crafter, blogger, and dog lover.

Let me start off by saying that I am a very lucky woman. In the past year, I've gotten married, moved to a huge city, my husband has landed a high-paying job, and I, the following spouse, even landed a job that started before my husband's. The job is even one I'm uniquely qualified for - literally, it's my old job, but in a new environment. The thing is, I wasn't happy doing my old job. I was good at it, but unhappy. I thought moving to a new organization while still doing something I enjoyed would alleviate this unfulfilled feeling I'm experiencing. I am starting to think that the organization wasn't the problem.

In theory, I should be psyched that my husband completing his graduate coursework (he's ABD at this point) dovetailed with the start date of his new job and now, my new job. Not psyched, ecstatic! And I'm not. I tend to spread myself too thin, which I've been trying to work on. Sometimes that doesn't always work out...

Did I mention I'm also working on MY master's degree? Luckily my program is flexible and most courses can be taken online. We found out in December we'd be moving this summer, so I secured a summer internship for credit. When I landed my full time job a few months later, I opted to do the internship in addition to working 40 hours a week. I figured it would be easier and more fun to work six days a week than work 5 plus take an online class. I've done that before just fine, but the internship sounds more interesting and practical.

Not the author, but close enough. Pic from Ashleeappendicitus

Did I mention I also have a blog? I won't linky link because I'm guesting anonymously today, but it's about crafts. I've been blogging there for coming up on a year, and it's become one of my favorite things to work on. I didn't realize until making hundreds of crafts for my wedding that crafting is what I really love to do. It's not just an outlet for anxiety for me like it once was. I find myself feeling so strongly about my work that I regularly forgo sleep to work on it, as well as my blog. The longer I'm blogging, the more I'm realizing that I want to dedicate more time to it. But I can't commute to a full time job and make that happen. I feel like I'm missing opportunities with crafting every second at work, and then I'll sneak a second or two to post something or approve comments, and I feel like I'm letting my paid job down.

Did I mention how lucky my husband and I are? My husband somehow landed a job in finance, with all of the perks (money, insurance, etc.) therein. We don't want kids, plus we can already afford for me not to work at all. So why am I so worried about all of this? I simultaneously feel like the small window that has opened for me to develop a business is only going to be open for a short while. If I don't do this now when the conditions are right, then will I ever? My husband is supportive. He knows, probably better than I do, that I can make myself work 40 hours a week from home.

Kids and crafts. A lot of people I know who craft for a living appear to be able to justify it because they're also stay-at-home-moms. Half of their blog posts are about the hat they made their kids, how their kids are napping so they had time to post, how great their kids' contributions are to their work. I don't want kids, and I think it's impressive that these women can run a business plus to do the kids thing at the same time. Now I'm not saying I feel like getting knocked up will justify my craft business, but I think it would be easier for me to say to people, "I am a mom, but I also make a living through my Etsy shop."

The realistic plan I can envision in my head. I finish my master's degree in December. Leading up to that, I can look for part-time employment. With any luck, I'd like to be able to leave my current job in December, work a lower stress part time job, and run my business part time. That way, I can feel my safety net, but still have time to devote to the pursuit I want to eventually do full time.

But what if I'm wrong... 
_________________________________________


*Name changed to protect the innocent-- and unfortunately she let me pick the pseudonym.


For most posts like this, see The Scale of Opportunity and Guest Post: Freeze Dried.  If you'd like a platform to talk about your experience moving with a significant other, please contact me.

Guest Post: Freeze-dried

Freeze-Dried is a female grad student on-her-way-out-of-the-twenties. She's into SF/F, food, hugs and some (albeit very little) exercise. She is Mostly Harmless and can be reached at frozendry.at.gmail.com.

Dear A.b.,

Ever since you’ve invited me to do a guest post in this space, I’ve been wondering about what I can say as a traveling spouse that you haven’t already – incredibly honestly and eloquently – addressed.  And I’m convinced that I can’t do an abstract idea-post related to being a traveling spouse*. My solution, forgive my indulgence, is to focus on me.

A couple of years ago, I decided to follow my partner, (not just because it is the right thing to do**), but because I wanted to***. At the time, although I was in a job that I thoroughly enjoyed, I hadn’t really begun to think of it as a career. After an initial wave of uncomfortable dependence (that passed with support from the spouse), I eventually maneuvered my way into my first unplanned “home-maker” year. I learnt to cook. I also learnt how not to trip over one’s laundry, and how to fold clothes (no, it is an ancient art, really) and sometime down that road, found out that I really wanted to find a career in the academe.

But more recently - sometime over the Christmas break, actually - I discovered that a lot of who I am has come to be built around one relationship. To most people that meet me now, I’m a spouse before I’m a person, much more in fact than P is. This is significantly different from our pre-travelling situation. Back then (it does feel like ages ago), I was an individual / a woman before anything else. I suspect a lot of this difference has to do with having chosen a dependent life.

Between commuting to work, hanging out with P and getting stuff done for school, for want of both time and interest, I do very little else. Consequently, new people meet me as a role rather than as a person. On the other hand, P, given the nature of his job and of our situation still has a more independent life than me. For instance, he meets people at his workplace as a so-and-so-specialist and the dynamics of a job allow for development of (a certain kind of) familiarity, while grad school can be very immersive and isolating.

Anyway, people meet P as an individual / a man before meeting him as a spouse.

[Okay, now is a good time for that interjection: P works his job (although he’d rather be pursuing his art), so that we can have the life that we do. For this, he has my highest respect. I must clarify that this post should in no way suggest that he is insensitive or otherwise oblivious to my concerns.]

Meet my freaking-the-fuck-out moment: In my own mind, I have become a spouse who is incidentally, doing other things.

Self, meet Insecurity. Insecurity, meet Self.

For me, this realization has been attended by some seriously debilitating angst, helplessness, and – surprise, surprise, possessiveness – the kind that has, in the past, made me run in the opposite direction. Coming to terms with this idea (that despite all the things I do, even I think of myself as a spouse first) hasn’t been easy. It means un-learning some things and re-learning some others. It means walking out of this comfort zone of a secure and familiar identity (that I didn't even realize I was building) and learning to be at home with the unknown. And perhaps most scarily, it means having to do this – being a traveling spouse – without losing myself.

A dear friend (who re-appeared quite of the blue to buoy me through this very personal crisis) said, “Being possessive is okay. But what matters is what you do when they’re around and what you do with yourself when they are not.” All suggestiveness aside, that’s my new goal. Yes, with the traveling spouse deal as it is, I don’t necessarily know how, if at all, I can have a completely independent identity without going back to a non-nomadic lifestyle. Hell, I don’t even know how I’m going to work at this.

But, I’m determined to atleast try.

Footnotes: 

*’cause almost everything about being one is so personal, init?

**Which is an expectation where I come from

*** A complete distrust of long-distance relationships may also have had something to do with this decision.

(Freeze-dried)