**That's it!! I've had it!**
The thing about being a major contributor in this family's support system during such delicate times - as I find myself at the moment - is that, for my particular roll, I had no other choice but to be cast as "the bad guy" in this financial crisis/drama/horror-story. The crummy part is I always feel like I'm the "bad guy," and I hate that. Our doorbell rang a few minutes ago; it was the mailman. We don't get many visitors, so I knew it was either the post or some attorney's office runner delivering a letter demanding payment on delinquent accounts. Post it was, delivering certified mail from Chase about our delinquent home mortgage payment, accompanied by a brochure informing how to avoid foreclosure - nice touch.
**That's it! I'm on the verge!! I can hardly stand it anymore!!**
Black hat on, I answered the door. (That's my job... REALLY... no one else will get it.) So, I get the door - at the same time trying to prevent the dogs from escaping (Run, dogs, RUN!) - and, of course, inquiring minds want to know who it was and what was the reason. "Bad guy," me, has to tell "poor me, guy" husband that it was certified mail which required signature at time of delivery.
"Let me see it." says my husband, holding his hand out.
I think, "Here you go, dude. May the force be with you. I hope you stand by the sink; you just might throw-up." as I hand it over to him.
Ahhhh... Finally, the huge sense of relief I've been waiting for. I am now freed from the solitude and desolation that comes with being finance manager when no money is coming in; it's perfect timing for welcoming my husband to my world. (Can you tell who handles the bill paying?) No longer in the land of making money, my husband's world for the past four and a half months has seen him move from the land of job hunting to floating in the sea of despair to drowning in an ocean of uncertainty, with occasional visits home-stressful-home. He has now arrived where I've been floundering, and waiting for so long for him to join me..., Hmmmm... What To Do? City
**Now that I've started my little rant, I might as well finish... even though the waves of anxiety and hostility have subsided since taking a break from writing to hang out with the family and eat a lousy grocery freezer pizza dinner.**
This is what I don't like... I don't like when someone cops an attitude when I answer a question they asked. As if my saying, "As of yesterday, we are two months behind on car payments; two and a half behind on mortgage." were a personal attack. I simply answered the question: How far behind are we on the car and house payments? The anger reflecting in the eyes of the person asking the question, coupled with tension filled body language, made me feel a bit ill. All I did was give him the facts - plain and simple. I'm feeling a little sick to my stomach revisiting the scenario, here... This gave evidence that my husband may still not be ready to enter life as I know it. Hmmmm... What to do?
I feel like the "most hated wife in America," all because I answered the front door, then answered a direct question, and have been of no use in finding a solution to get us out of our financial situation. I feel like it's all my fault. I am the "bad guy."
A positive is that "our union" is still intact. However, I'm still scared as can be. We are now navigating the roughest part of the road, sign ahead: *There is no sign!!* I just hope and pray we survive head-on collision with the realities of approaching life lessons.
***Stop...! I want to get out!! NOW!!!