Colorless Green Ideas Unintentionally Amusing In Person
Friday, June 13, 2003
The Husband asked me this morning if I was really okay with moving to the East Coast if he gets this job. And you know, rationally, I well and truly am.
I mean, I’m terrified to move so far away from all of our friends and family, and the logistics of such a long move have me worrying about all kinds of details, and the fact that the move could necessitate a 3-6 month delay between The Husband moving to start the new job & me moving is horrible to consider, but I really do think that we can do this. And, more importantly, I know that the process will be a big step for me, and for The Husband, and for us together—it will prove that we can do this kind of thing, that we can go and start again in a new place if we want to, and it will make the next move (if there is one) much less frightening.
Having The Husband get a job that he likes and can succeed in is extremely important—important enough that in all likelihood I cannot overstate its significance. You see, for the last two years, even since we got out of college, he’s been doing very ill-paid freelance while I worked full-time. And I agreed to that arrangement, because, at about the same time we graduated from college, the job market for graphic and web design (at least on the West Coast) went into the toilet, and I wasn’t okay with forcing him to take an unrelated job and chuck his career goals. So he worked freelance, and I pretty well supported us. But it’s been really stressful, and, while it has improved The Husband’s skills as a designer, it hasn’t been doing anything to get us out of the situation that we were sliding further and further into—Me being the eternal Responsible One, and The Husband doing his best, but ultimately being somewhat ineffective, and becoming gradually more dependant on me to be the Responsible One, which puts more pressure on me… etc. etc. etc. It’s a long slow tailspin, and it’s easy to do if you’ve got one partner with hyper-responsibility issues and one partner who is somewhat lacking in common-sense skills.
But then something happened. SourBob wrote two very touching pieces about ADD, and what it’s like to live with. I read them while browsing through Bob’s archives, and I forwarded the links to The Husband. He was utterly dumfounded. He actually told me that he was near tears after reading these missives. It reminded him (again) that he’s been meaning to have himself professionally evaluated for ADD for over a decade, but that he kept putting it off—and if anyone has ADD or lives with someone who does, this is no big surprise. But SourBob shocked him into action, and he went to the doctor. And the doctor confirmed that, indeed, The Husband has a serious and complicated form of ADD—a chemical problem probably inherited from his mother’s side of the family, further deepened by being raised by an almost-certainly ADD mother and an abusive step dad, on an island, in a situation in which everyone seemed (and still sometimes seems to me) to be combined in a concentrated effort to deny the existence of the real world or develop any effective strategies for dealing with it. This family puts stuff in the backyard and hopes it will just disappear somehow, rather than drive it into the dump.
The Husband’s doctor put him on Ritalin. And, frankly, the change has been amazing. Further, The Husband is hugely pleased with it. It’s made a world of difference. The Husband remembers to do things. He follows through on things. He takes practical factors into consideration when he’s making decisions—he has never done that before! It’s enormous. It takes a tremendous load off me—and it’s made me aware of just how stressed and burdened I have been. It’s just too much for one person to bear all of the responsibility for two, and that’s exactly what I have been trying to do. But now The Husband is ready—and, in fact, eager!—to take on his share of the job, and he’s able to do so. Don’t get me wrong—he’s going to have to struggle, and he’s going to do things much differently than I would do them, but I think it will ultimately sort itself out and be okay. The Husband has a lifetime of bad habits to contend with, and I have a massive history of over-compensating and control issues, but, when all’s said and done, I believe that we will have something that is much more of a partnership than we’ve ever had before. And that will be a wonderful, wonderful thing, because a partnership is what we have always wanted this relationship to be.
And getting a job is The Husband’s first big step down this road. It’s the first major, outwardly-visible sign that he’s moving forward. And if he can get this job, not just any job, and go someplace where he can have a future, somewhere that he can have fun at work and be happy and appreciated, then he will be able to see that he can do this, and not have to keep being afraid to try because he thinks he’s not really good enough. And once there is outside evidence that he really is as talented and creative as I’ve been telling him, he’ll be able to keep going towards the kind of career and life he truly wants.
And if that means I need to move to the East Coast, then, hell, I’m getting off cheap. A 2,000 mile move is nothing for that kind of return.
I don’t really want to move, but I do really really really want him to get a job
I want The Husband to get this job, because I think he would like it, and do well, and, also (let’s be honest) because I want everything to work out for him all the time, on the very first try, with no bumps or difficulties or rejection letters. And I’m afraid he will get discouraged if, after all the work he’s done for this application, they don’t at least give him an interview.
I slept horribly last night, because I was worrying about the application process, and if the company would like it, and if there was any way at all I could throw in and help out, and then, because I was already worrying, I started worrying about all the stuff I’d have to do to move to Maryland—would I want to sell the car, or not? Sell all the furniture? What about the books, CDs, DVDs, etc, etc. etc., and now I’m wasted and over-emotional and all set to burst into tears at the slightest provocation.
Please please please, if there is any fairness in the universe, I want this to work out for him… think positive thoughts…
(they will call and offer to fly him to Maryland for an interview, and it will go swimmingly, and they will offer him the job… they will call and offer to fly him to Maryland for an interview, and it will go swimmingly, and they will offer him the job… they will call and offer to fly him to Maryland for an interview, and it will go swimmingly, and they will offer him the job)