A Song of Complaint

I am what can only be described as imminently depressed. Here I am, sitting in my friends' basement. They are my parents' age. They live in a small house, and their niece and son (both my age) are also living here. We are almost living on top of each other.

I feel like a little kid. You know? Asking if it's okay if I do this or that. Sharing a bathroom with a lot of other people. Squished into Barb's study, surrounded by half of my belongings (the other half of which are stuffed into Ma's storage locker one hour away). I want to be alone, but there's no where to go (Seth is sitting 5 feet away from me building some kind of a project). I want to take a bath or a shower but stranger's showers weird me out.

I know I'm a being a complainer. But this is the 11th place I've stayed in 8 years. I can't even say "lived" because this isn't living. I'm just staying.

I want a Life with some continuity. I want to know what I own because I see it every day. I don't know what I own now... Ma still has stuff in the shed behind her house from 3 moves ago. I literally have no idea what's even in there anymore, just that it's mine. There is stuff there, stuff in my folks' basement, stuff in the rented unit an hour away, stuff upstairs in Barb and Jerry's makeshift study/bedroom.

I didn't tell you this, but a few weeks ago I asked the First Sergeant to show me some real estate options... nothing big, just some foreclosed condos that maybe I could afford on a teacher's salary. People without a lot of money buy houses all the time. I've always been responsible, I just don't have a lot of money. So why shouldn't I buy a place? It would mean an anchor, a safe place in the storm of my turbulent, often unsure life.

We looked at a lot of properties, until we found the PERFECT one. It was in the part of town I'd always wanted to live in, it was clean and priced about 40K under what it should have been. I was thrilled! I immediately got a pre-approval letter and a credit check (perfect credit!). The stars were all aligned. And then the axe fell. According to the First Sergeant's financial friend, I could only afford $80,000 worth of house on my teacher's salary. Even a foreclosed condo costs more than 80K.

I was crushed. I looked at my mom in tears and said, "Teachers buy houses all the time. How do they do it? How do they afford it?"

My mom shrugged. "I've never sold a house to a teacher. At least not one who wasn't married, with a 2nd income."

And that was the end of all my dreams of everything. I'd chosen a profession I didn't find especially fulfilling, and as luck would have it, I would also never earn enough money to provide a stable existence for myself. The facts were in: I would have to marry if I wanted the life I had always wanted... and it wasn't even a fabulous life. I'd always wanted just a small house with a magnolia tree in front. That's it. And I can't have even that without getting married?

I always read and heard about people marrying for money. My only biological uncle, though I could count the number of times I've seen him on one hand, told me once, "Marry rich. It's just as easy to fall in love with a rich man as a poor man." I thought he was nuts. I thought that that whole concept of "marrying for money" was just something that people did a few hundred years ago. Is it stupid to say that I didn't know a lot of women actually placed a high emphasis on how financially successful a candidate is NOW? I really didn't. But apparently they do.

And I hate that that thought is now in my head. I don't WANT to need someone else's salary. I want to provide for myself. But according to these new facts: I am a TEACHER. Teachers don't make enough money to buy houses on their own. So if I ever want any stability in my life, if I want to stay in one place for the next 5 years -- which would be HEAVEN to me! -- I have to get married. And not just married. I have to marry someone who is financially stable, with a solid job and a steady income. That really sucks. I mean, it's not like I was looking for a guy who serves peas in a prep school lunch line and lives in his parents' basement. But I would like to have that option.

I'm just discouraged. My friend Katy is in her 30's and has never had a job as anything more than a secretary. But she just married a doctor. They bought a fabulous gigantic house and she quit her job. I don't want to quit my job. And I don't want to marry a doctor. But gosh, that's an easy answer. I hate that. I hate that.