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8:57 a.m. - 2012-04-16
Counting days and hours
My CNA classes start on Thursday. Whoo-hoo!! This four months without school has been incredibly long. I have been studying studying daily -- French, Russian, Spanish and a little bit of Arabic -- but I am still bored and frustrated and so are my kids ...

My mom, who is graduating from nursing school in three weeks, threw plenty of verbal cold water on my plan to get CNA-certified and work nights -- with the wisdom of being over 30 I suspect it's because she thinks I should be a doctor instead and doesn't like to see me working nights for minimum wage because my husband is a lying, cheating sack of shite -- well, the way I see it, I'm the one who married him and I'm also the one who chose being anorexic over going to college the first time around, so it is my mess to clean up.

And oh is it ever! The number of medical bills piling up that he hasn't paid and will never pay gives me additional motivation -- my credit history is shot and will be for as long as I am married to him and probably for 10 years after that, maybe more. I only have one life so rather than get depressed over that I just want to DO SOMETHING about it, i.e. earn my own money and pay them. Even paying them down slowly is better than doing nothing.

I am totally over this "my husband" thing. I used to like saying "my husband." Now it feels almost like saying "my parents" all the time -- I am sick of being constantly connected to him, of factoring him in to all my decisions. I can't even picture myself married -- to him or to anyone -- anymore.

Of course, since we have two kids together, I'll probably be factoring him into my decisions for the rest of my life.

I'm glad I had the experience of being married -- since one of my goals in life is to collect experiences -- and I'm glad I got two kids out of it, and I was smart enough to marry a shithead with a good income so I should get some respectable child support out of him. All in all this marriage would have been perfect had I not also been in love with him and gotten my heart broken. Oh well, can't have everything.

I think working nights for minimum wage taking care of old people would be very depressing if I didn't have a plan, but I do, and hopefully it's only a matter of time till I don't have to work nights, or for minimum wage, and I can do what I want to do (pay to volunteer in the favelas!) at least part of the time.

Three years -- that's not long at all...



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