Since I graduated from university (heck, even throughout some of uni and all of grad school), I've never been without a paying job. Yes, I do consider writing a job, but it's not one that: a. I leave the flat for; and b. I get paid for. It's a strange feeling to be at the complete mercy of ME, while relying completely on the Man to bring in the funds.
I've never been dependent on anyone before, except my parents, and it's going to take some getting used to. While we've had a joint account ever since we moved in together five years ago, we still kept individual accounts for our own sundry expenditures (in my case, mainly hair and clothes. God, that sounds shallow!). Now, my own account is dwindling despite my best attempts not to spend any money, knowing there won't be more coming in. No end-of-the-month pay cheque for me!
While the Man insists what's his is mine (and vice versa, of course, not that I have anything), it's still something I struggle with. Granted, 'chasing my dreams' is worth every sacrifice for me, but is it worth it for him? Is it right for me to put a slight strain on our finances just so I can attempt to do something? And what if that something results in nothing?
1 comment:
Every life experience is worth something no matter how much it seems to cost.
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