Freaking out

Funny that my first post here is about freaking out *eyeroll* I am usually so calm and collected!

I know! I’ll blame it on getting off The Pill. Yes, capital T, capital P, because it’s all speshul, and it’s made me so tense I feel like exploding out of my skin.

Not that RL doesn’t help with driving my off my gourd, of course. Work is boring, for instance. Yeah, I know, I know, work is always boring, you’ll say, but that’s not true. It’s just that lately all I seem to do is slack off, because there is just. No. Challenge. Don’t ask what I do for a living. If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you.

And then there’s the love of my life, or My Love, as he’ll be referred to in this blog (until I change my mind or forget about it)…

He’s brilliant. He’s witty, speaks a million languages, has exactly the same warped sense of humor as me, shares my geeky tendencies (maybe surpasses is the right word here) and loves me as much as I love him. He’s now getting ready to abandon his country and his family and be here with me, and he proposed down on one knee when I went to pick him up at the airport as he was visiting for my birthday.  How we met is the stuff of fairy tales… if you know one with the–bored–fair maiden writing erotica and the knight in signing armour happening to read it on a slow work day.

I know if you’re single (or probably even in a relationship) you wanna slap me for complaining right now. Bare with me, however, because there is one downside.

My love, the man of my dreams, the future father of my children has been out of a job since December. He wasn’t fired, and it was nothing he did, the company he worked for decided to outsource the department he was working for and found a lame excuse to force employees therein to quit, so they didn’t even get severance pay. I don’t blame him for that. I am still in the process of trying to not blame anyone for the months that followed without him getting a new job because first he needed a month to himself after eight years of working like a dog, then was waiting for his best friend to get off his arse and start a company with him, then summer came and nobody was hiring. I totally understood it wasn’t

I’m running out of understanding now, though. I feel like yelling. A lot.

He was supposed to get a job–any jobby early September. That’s next week, in case you didn’t know. His plan is to keep looking online till the end of next week, then start going to places that may need a waiter or something like that. I know it may make sense to you, but it doesn’t to me. The way I see it, when you’re about to live in a new country, have people depend on you, you need to show some drive to succeed. Am I wrong?

I may be. It’s The Pill.

Or not.

What I know is that I don’t want to ever lose him, but the pressure I’m feeling from everyone around who keeps asking what My Love does with his life is weighing on me heavily.

I know he’s not a bum, I know he’s not trying to get out of working forever, but why should I have to defend my relationship all the time? It’s enough that I constantly worry my dad will have to keep providing for us after the wedding if My Love doesn’t find a job here soon, why can’t he just eat his pride, serve fast food, and show everyone that his really willing to do anything for his family?

I really feel like there’s a constant pressure on my chest, an ever-hovering shadow over our future, and I won’t stop feeling it until he’s here and we share a house, and I see things working out as we dream they will. I just wish he’d gimme that little something now, so I could at least sleep at night.

Here’s hoping he’ll find something soon–preferably something he’ll like, so he doesn’t resent me.

That’s all for now.