Regrets

For the first time since moving to New Jersey two years ago, I find myself regretting that we left San Francisco.

The reasons for the move were simple enough: we wanted our children to grow up with their cousins, we wanted to be closer to family.  And when a job opportunity presented itself to my husband, it did not take long for us to make the decision to move. We had our fears. 

The housing market in San Francisco was in a slump and we worried if we would be able to sell it (and whether we would make any profit from the sale). We ended up making a small profit. But had we stayed, we would have made much much more. The housing market is on a roll again. Sigh.  I realize it's only money...but that is something we could really use right now.

My husband worried about what would happen if for some reason the new job did not work out. His entire network was in San Francisco, not New York. The bulk of his industry was in Silicon Valley, not New York.  "Why wouldn't it work out?" I argued back. Little did I know, both of our jobs were in jeopardy.

About a year after we moved, the company I had been working for was struggling financially. They had let me work remotely, but I just wasn't as valuable as I had been when I was in San Francisco (I couldn't manage projects, I couldn't meet with clients, etc)...so I ended up getting laid off.  At first it was a bit of a relief. I had not been happy for some time and was looking forward to exploring my opportunities as a writer instead.  But the truth was I made a very good salary...and that loss of income hurt us.  Had we stayed in San Francisco, I would still have a job.  I would still be making a good salary.

Not having a steady income is even worse now that my husband has been laid off. The division in his Fortune 500 company was not performing well...and he was one of the higher paid employees. They decided to go in a different direction and informed him this week that his services are no longer required. They are willing to let him stay on for another six months while he looks for new employment...and he's doing all he can to find a new job...but I would be lying if I said it wasn't scary. And I can't help but think that had we stayed in SF, the job hunt would be less scary. My husband would have his network. My husband would be in his element.

The timing couldn't have been worse.  Purchasing and furnishing a new house took its toll on our bank accounts.  Just this month our mortgage payment went up by $2K per month to cover our escrow debt (we had gone into negative escrow when our added taxes from our property reassessment kicked in).  It is also tax time, and we owe the government. Joy Joy. 

I've been staring at our household budget spreadsheet all day...and it is painfully obvious that we have more money going out than in...and it is just going to get worse if we don't do something to curb our expenses and bring in more income.

Perhaps my husband will find an even better paying job and our worries will be over. But I am not hopeful. It is more likely that I will need to find a job.  Now that I've had a taste of life without a job I hate...nothing fills me with more dread than having to venture back into that world. Had we stayed in San Francisco...I would have never known better. 

On the flip side - had we stayed, my children would not know their cousins. Had we stayed, I would have never written my novel. Had we stayed, we would not be living in our dream house. 

But had we stayed, I would not be so terrified of the future right now.

A Crisis of Self

I’ve been in the midst of a crisis lately – a crisis of self – or put another way: “who am I?”

“An engineer, an author, a mother (not necessarily in that order).”  That is what my brain rattles off when I ask that question of myself. But it is almost as though the words come with an asterisk sign, a disclaimer of sorts that hints that this is not entirely accurate.

An engineer.  That is what I am trained to be, and I have a bachelor’s degree, a master’s degree and a decade’s worth of work to post on my resume that demonstrates this. But I am no longer employed as an engineer. I have some small jobs on a contract basis here and there, but it is just a small fraction of what I used to do.  And because I no longer have a steady paycheck coming in – right or wrong, a part of me feels I feel I no longer have a valid claim to this title.  I was not in love with my job. I recall countless mornings spent in the shower moaning, “I don’t want to do this anymore.” But now that it’s gone…I feel that a piece of me is missing.

An author.  I have written a book, and published said book. That makes me an author. But it does not make me a successful author; and the truth is, I may never become one.  In contrast to much of what I did as an engineer, I actually thoroughly enjoy writing.  So much so that it feels like a hobby – not a career.  This thought is reinforced by the fact that I make virtually no money writing.  If I could make a living as a writer, it would be easy for me to say, “I used to be an engineer but now I’m an author.” But without that validation of an income, even if it is a paltry income, I have trouble defining myself as an author.  

A mother.  Yes, I am a mother.  I could say that is my career, but I have known from the beginning that I am not cut out to be a stay-at-home mom.  While I do many of the things a stay-a-home mom might do - take the kids to/from school, make lunches, make dinners, make their beds, wash their clothes, help with homework, take to soccer and swim practice, etc - I do not have the patience it takes to do that job successfully. My son already dislikes me (“Mom, I am going to go live in a tent and everyone is allowed to come see me – EXCEPT  YOU!”)…he would downright abhor me if he was subjected to my presence 24/7.  It wouldn’t be fair to the children, and it wouldn’t be fair to me. So my kids go to a full-time daycare, and I have never, ever responded, “I am a mom,” when someone asks me what I do for a living.

But if I am not an engineer, and I’m not an author, and I’m not cut out to be a stay-at-home mom – what am I?  I am a person with a crisis of self.  Sigh.