Today marks the beginning of my fourth week as a Chicago resident. Over the course of the past two(+) years, I’ve gotten pregnant, had a baby, graduated from college, brought my unemployed and mentally ill father to live with my family, found him another home, applied and was accepted to graduate school, found a job in Chicago, and moved.
Oh, my god. I’m so tired.
The funny thing is, I just made a personal commitment to myself to start blogging more frequently again because, as it so happens, I have “lost” that job in Chicago.
The short version of the story goes something like this: I applied to a chain coffee house as a manager. I interviewed twice for the position but didn’t get it. I was offered a shift supervisor position but didn’t take it. I became a lowly barista again, assuming they would pay me at least what I was making at my old job. They allowed this. Two weeks in, and right before Charlie started his new job, it became apparent that we were not going to find any trustworthy child care on such short notice. The district manager of the company that hired me did all their scheduling because the store where I worked did not have an official manager yet (six months after I’d applied for the job!). She put up this week’s schedule on Friday afternoon and I scrambled all weekend to find someone to watch Bea. Never happened.
I also did some math and determined that the cheapest babysitting option was still 30% more than what I was making. Staying home with Bea is our most affordable option. Also, Bea got sick, we had no one to watch her and I kinda got terminated. It was more of a mutual decision. I admit I was leaning towards that conclusion, but when the DM said she would begin “filing the termination paperwork,” I was a little surprised. Especially considering how well I was doing there.
Money’s going to be tight for a bit, but surprisingly, not as bad as it was in Indy taking care of my dad. Who, as it turns out, is not interested in keeping in touch with us. I haven’t heard a peep out of him in two months. The last time he contacted me was when I emailed him, asking if he’d be able to help out with our move. His response? “I’m not sitting on anything, if that’s what you think.”
I did think that, actually.
When he was approved for disability in December or January, he received a huge check which totaled the amount he would have received per month if he’d been approved right away. He’d also worked a job for three weeks that paid over $60 an hour. So at one point the beginning of this year, he would have had around $13,000 in his account, if not more. Perhaps closer to eighteen grand.
He paid us rent three times ($300 per month), and paid to have our car window repaired. Which had been broken out in June of last year.
Yes, I’m bitter. Yes, Thanksgiving this year is going to be SUPER AWKWARD. I am, however, excited to see what the next few months have to offer.
More to come . . .