Let’s begin at the end…
I mean… at the end of my previous blog.
Don’t worry, I’ll keep you well-informed. We’re back in December 2015. I spent the morning before my interview nervous, but hopeful. I wanted this job. It was a data entry, admin assistant, tax entry kinda job. And I wanted it. I had been thinking for years I wanted to get into the tax business. I always liked numbers, puzzles, and clients. I was OVER CUSTOMER SERVICE. If you don’t know there’s a difference, there is a HUGE one. *See the large words, that’s my emphasis…
Anyways, I got dressed for my interview. I had recently shed some baby weight, but wasn’t quite back to my original shape… so my choices were limited in interview clothes. I decided on a cute dress that fit me well at the time and boots. With my long hair up in a tight bun and some makeup… I was ready!
Wait, too many details.
Long story short. I got the job. Why? Because I never gave up on the process. My boss had a test to determine a person’s capabilities in different things. He also had time limits for each of these. Instead of telling him I couldn’t, I learned how to in the short time I had available. He called me two days later to say I got the job!
This would be the beginning of a beautiful relationship! A work relationship that is!
After only a couple of months of working with him… I came to realize that we had a great work-chemistry. All of the things I am naturally good at, he would recognize. Anywhere I would slack off, he would provide insight and constructive criticism to help me grow.
Finding this kind of balance in work, made me want to search it elsewhere… and I came to realize, my marriage was severely out of balance.
My husband started work a month after I did. And things seemed ok. But I could tell there was something off, and if I’m honest with myself… things had been off for over a year. Before I got pregnant and had my daughter.
The strain became more and more as we realized we would not be able to afford our apartment much longer. Then he lost his job in March of 2016.
By April, we had decided I would move in with my parents, while he moved back to his home state for a job his friend had. Now, let me preface something else…
We agreed on a temporary move until we could get our finances in order. 6 months of no jobs, part-time jobs, and everything else had put us deep in the hole. When everything was fixed, one of us would move. He bounced around from job to job, and I continued to work in California at my new job that I loved more and more each day.
I eventually started helping my older sister, and making some part-time cash. This was in October 2016. *I’m not going month-month. Bear with me.
And the six months we had agreed on, had to be extended. As we had barely fixed anything. I began to understand our relationship was becoming toxic.
I was angry at him. I resented him. I was tired of him.
I blamed everything on him. I couldn’t let it go. From the inception of our daughter, to her birth. I took care of everything. I became a nasty person, that I barely recognized in the mirror as I berated him for everything under the sun.
The distance fostered my independence and my want to leave him.
I’ll update again soon… I mean, you don’t want to read a novel, right?