what is it about...

• Jobs. Just like classrooms, or gyms, or churches, or clubs, or whatever, they provide you with a time and a place where you'll see certain people on a regular basis. Maybe you like these people, maybe you don't. I had a job. As of a few days ago, I no longer have a job, partly by choice, partly by circumstance, which I'll elaborate on in a mo'. And, I was lucky enough to very much like the people I saw every day at my job. I miss them.
• When you quit a job. Or end a semester, or graduate from a program, or leave a church or a club, or change gyms or whatever. No longer do you have that structure, that time and place, in which to see the people whom you may or may not have liked on a regular basis. I don't have that structure anymore. I haven't, actually, for a few months, since they day I became too pregnant to stand--or, as the case was, to sit--8 hours at a time handling customer service issues. And now, of course, I have a baby. So I don't see a lot of people anymore, which, I know, happens. But it still makes me sad.
• Babies. Ah, babies. I love this one, currently sleeping in my lap, a whole lot: Babies tend to make you reorganize a lot of things in your life: Priorities, schedules, your sock drawer. I've changed around all 3, and then some. I've reduced our cell phone plan; I've greatly diminished, if not eliminated, my inclination toward impulse Target shopping; I am making an art and science out of bargain grocery shopping. I'm desperately praying that the little savings will add up. And, I quit my job. This move was unforeseen until very recently, and may seem antithetical (is this the right word?) to the whole need-money dilemma. Firstly, though, daycares and babysitters incidentally charge nearly as much, if not more, than I make per hour. Secondly, look at that face (above). I can't do it. I can't regularly leave her with someone else.
• Those ended structures, and the friends therein. You hope the friends know how much you like them. You hope that you'll continue to talk, to email, to hang out. You might. You might not. It's hard without the structures.
• Moving on. A necessary part of life. Sometimes regrettable. Sometimes desired. Often bittersweet.
• Me. Due to the fact that I am rather socially retarded, I am terrible at keeping up friendships and other relationships. Most of the time I'm too scared to call people and ask them to get together. (What if they're busy? What if they feel like they have to make an excuse? What if they're like, um, Penelope Who?) And, I am too dependent on things like jobs as structures. I depend on them to regularly see the people I like. I depend on them to even call the people in them friends. So then, when the structure goes away, I immediately call into question the validity of all of it: did they like me? Did they know I like them? I am not good enough while in the situation, such as the job, at developing friendships outside of the situation. I front with a long list of excuses (I'm tired, I'm a hermit, or, now--I've got a baby!), when really, I'm just nervous. And terminally uncool.

So. I'm in a funk lately, feeling like now the job's gone and I'm "in" all the time and really it's all pretty fabulous being a stay-at-home-mom like I always wanted, but... I don't know. I feel like something's gone? Anyway, my ladies at Castle Branch, if you're reading, and if even if you're like, "Penelope, that sucker--whatever": I love ya! Think we can ever, I don't know, do lunch?