The Wedding Aftermath, Part II

You know, they call getting married "settling down," and for me, that's really true. I am not an adventurous person. I am very settled down, so to speak -- not ramping up for new adventures. I'm old now, I'm tired; all I ever wanted to do was literally settle down at home with my wife and spend time together, at home, not going anywhere or doing anything unless we had to. Sure, we'd leave the house to go grocery shopping, visit the parents, or go to dinner and a movie on our "date nights," but I am so uninterested in most other "adventures." This whole "being married" thing is a massive adjustment to my life, as was the move up here a month ago, and it's an adjustment and life change that I am still getting used to. Mentally, I'm mostly there. Physically, I am not. I have never felt so tired or otherwise lethargic in my entire life. As mentioned before, since the wedding we've barely had any time to just relax. Almost every day there's a new task to take care of, an errand to run, things to go out and spend money on, or something to clean/wash/tidy/move/cook/etc. All of it thus far has just completely exhausted me. Those days of being alone in my home with my cats and very little, if anything, to do -- they're long gone. And on some level that's incredibly depressing to me. On another level, it's because I need that breathing space, that rest and relaxation, that I don't do anything I don't have to anymore. For example, Daisy and her mother went on a day trip to Kansas City earlier this week, and asked if I wanted to go with them. I declined.

I had reasons, of course; I don't like to travel, I don't like long drives when it's hot and sunny outside, and I don't want to return to Kansas or Missouri ever again if I can possibly avoid it. I also don't want to spend money, as I have relatively little of my own to spend -- and most of that has to go towards my monthly bills. So, Daisy and Mama turned it into a "girls' day out," so to speak -- they originally wanted to do an overnight trip, but seeing as hotel rooms were so expensive that they'd spend more on the hotel than on anything else, they opted for the day trip. In the meantime I Netflixed most of a season of That '70s Show and did all of the chores around the house before they returned home.

As mentioned previously, things are starting to wind down a bit and return to normal, though I've found that when you're married, "normal" is even more of a relative term than usual. As you know, Daisy works night shifts, and right now -- since the end of the semester about a month ago -- I'm not working. Well, not working per se, as I do take care of almost all of the around-the-house stuff. Yes, that's right, I've become the fabled house husband. For real. And for the moment, anyhow. I do all the laundry, I wash all the dishes, I take out the trash and clean the cat box. I clean the kitchen. I organize the bills and alert Daisy to them. I get the mail. I feed the cats and brush them to keep their shedding coats clean and light. I water the plants if they need it. I vacuum (sometimes). My point is that I try to keep the house in order as much as I can, because right now -- aside from applying for jobs -- that is my job. It's not like any of that stuff is going to change when I do get a job, because those are all things I do and want to do anyway, but while I can, I tend to spend a lot of time working on them because it keeps me busy and occupied.

However, there's so much more to do. Basically everything involving the wedding stuff has been pushed aside and put away for the moment, including the gifts for both the wedding and for Daisy's bridal shower. Almost three weeks later, I still have no clue what she got for her bridal shower, as most of it is in a pile of boxes and bags to be sorted through in the dining room. I have seen most, if not all, of the wedding gifts -- though they're in a similar pile next to me in here in the computer room. Daisy's wedding dress is still in here as well, in the same spot she put it on our wedding night when she took it off.

Make no mistake, it's a fairly large amount of gifts, boxes, and bags to go through. We pulled out the cards, gift cards, and checks/cash, made a note of who gave us what and how much, and either put them to use (most of them, anyway, in the case of the gift cards to places) or deposited them (the checks). Most of the cash has gone towards getting us groceries and other necessities for the past three weeks because hey, we have to eat, and Daisy's vegan food isn't cheap. We do have a well-stocked freezer, fridge, and cabinet, though.

I've been waiting over a week now to hear back from the people at Daisy's company, where I interviewed twice last week. I was told that they were still conducting interviews through yesterday, more than likely, and that sometime this week I'd hear from them. The position is supposed to start on July 6 (I think), so regardless of what happens, I won't be waiting too much longer. More than anything else, I'm just sick of being poor; my new license, my car's inspection/registration and new plates took 1/4 of what was in my bank account, and the rest is being sucked away one bill at a time. I don't dare use my money for anything else, as soon there won't be any left. Before she left for work tonight, Daisy gave me a further update on the situation -- the interviews are apparently done and the chosen candidates' resumes/profiles are being sent to their respective departments for hiring calls...and I should hear something one way or another by Monday or so. Something like that, anyway.

It's fine, of course; it's just that I'd like to know something before I possibly waste my time sending out another volley of a dozen or so applications to different places/companies or universities. For those of you who have been lucky enough to not need to apply for a new job anywhere for a while, let me tell you -- the processes to do so are fucking maddening at most places now. Yes, it's easy to do it all online, make no mistake, but what most places won't tell you is that filling out an application for one job will sometimes take an hour or more. Very few places will just let you upload a resume and cover letter and hit "submit." No, most of them will have you not only do that, but spend another hour filling out forms that say the exact same shit your resume says. Oh, and forms that tell them that (if you're me, of course), you're a white male in your 30s, with no criminal record, and you're not a disabled veteran. I swear, it's getting to the point where I want to say that I'm an albino eskimo midget with no legs just to see if I can get an interview somewhere.

Of course, it doesn't help that my latest job email was one of the local colleges letting me know that the position I'd applied for (an academic advisor position) was basically swept away, as the email they'd sent me said "a decision has been made to cancel the recruitment process." WTF does that mean? Does that translate to "oh, we're just not filling the position anymore"? I would've been more satisfied to hear that someone else had been selected for it, because the other unsaid option sounds like all of the people who applied, people like me -- with two degrees and years of experience working in academia -- aren't good enough, and they didn't know how to say it. That vague shit pisses me off, but I'm guessing they're not allowed to say "we have standards that are too high for a dreadfully simple, low-paying community college position, and none of our applicants met those standards, including you."

I don't know. It all just disgusts me, really. All that job-searching does for me these days is make me feel completely worthless and without a place in the world. And I already feel like that often enough as it is. Just because I'm married now doesn't mean I don't get frustrated and depressed, and I've really been fighting that a lot over the past few weeks. It's part of why I haven't written here more often. I can't generally gather my thoughts enough to write anything coherent or long-form anymore, and nothing is really happening. I go to bed late at night, Daisy gets home from work a few hours later and joins me, I get up around 11 and make coffee, go out on the deck to smoke, and make some food while I watch through whatever's in my instant queue on Netflix (right now it's been the first several seasons of That '70s Show, as mentioned above). Daisy wakes up around 4, one or both of us eat and get a little time together, and she then goes to work for eleven and a half hours straight, usually coming home for lunch. Repeat.

Another part of why it's hard to write is that I'm generally out of my comfort zone in this relatively sterile, white computer room. For over ten years I became used to writing with a pot of coffee in front of me, an ashtray next to my coffee cup, and a cigarette constantly burning. That was my routine, that was my groove, and it was a good groove. I was very productive and thoroughly thoughtful in that groove. I can't do that anymore. For one, I can't smoke in this place. Well, I could if I wanted to, as there's nothing in the lease that says I can't (I checked), but out of respect for Daisy, I don't. I still have the coffee pot on my desk, yes, but in the month I've lived here I have made precisely one pot of coffee in it -- a few weeks ago before I'd set up the Keurig. The Keurig has made the coffee pot on my desk obsolete, and it's in the kitchen. The cats usually lay on my feet or across my shoulders when I write -- they can't do that now, as the mess of gifts and Daisy's dress is in here in the computer room, and until all of that stuff gets taken away/sorted/put away, they can't get in here or they'd get into it and tear it up...so they're constantly locked out.

I'm really out of my element. And it's really hard to get into any sort of writing groove when I have my habits and my routines that I am no longer able to follow at all. If I wanted to, I could take my laptop out onto the deck with me, where I could smoke and drink coffee while writing, but...it's really just not the same. And the laptop is not only dreadfully slow, but I hate its keyboard. If it didn't make me sick, cough like crazy, or make me feel like I'm drowning when I'm using it, I could take my electronic vaping cigarette out and puff on that while I'm writing inside, but, well, it does do those things to me whether I want it to or not. I'm getting used to this new way of life, I suppose -- it's all about training the body and mind with new habits and new routines. It's just hard to shake off over ten years' worth of routine in the span of a month.

Financially, we're stable. For the moment, anyway. Daisy makes a comfortable living, and right now, it's supporting both of us with no real issues -- despite the fact that I am always neurotic about money. We have enough to pay for the bills, rent, groceries, and to put gas in the car(s) -- that's really all we need for the moment. Again, obviously, I'm basically treading water for the time being, hoping that I can land a job soon from one of my numerous, varied applications I have in right now. Over the weekend, I will be applying for even more things (if there's more out there, of course). I wanted to take Daisy out for her birthday, which is Monday, but we're going over to her parents' for dinner and to spend time with them, and that's fine. She told me not to worry about getting anything for her, which...well, for most other women, would be a trap. For her it's not. She knows I want to do something for her, but have no money to do it. And despite the fact that we have a joint bank account now, I haven't put a single cent into it yet -- if I were to get something for her from that account, she'd essentially be paying for it herself. That would be, as they say, a dick move. I haven't put any money into it yet because A) I don't have any money to put in it, and B) because we just opened it -- all that's been deposited are wedding checks and her paychecks. I haven't even activated my new debit card for that account yet, though we do have our shiny new checks for it.

"We'll make sure the bills are paid," Daisy said. "And we'll make sure your bills are paid."

"That's really all that matters," I replied.

And really, right now, it is.

As for everything else going on?

I've received numerous messages and emails from people back home -- mostly family -- asking if we're alive. This is because a few nights ago, a lot of tornadoes ripped through part of Nebraska about, oh, an hour or so north of us. I can't remember the name of the town it destroyed, but it wasn't near enough to us to do anything. It didn't even rain here that night. I sat on the porch and watched the lightning in the distance, but it's not like anything happened here. Last night we got some pretty bad storms as well, and about five inches of rain with them, but still nothing major. I've learned that in Nebraska, at least, this sort of thing isn't apparently out of the ordinary.

In the five years I lived in Kansas -- not to mention the three years I lived in Missouri before that -- I never had to take shelter for one single, solitary tornado warning. Ever. None of them ever got close enough to me in Newton, or in Wichita, to set off the sirens. The week after I moved to Omaha, Daisy and I were herded into the shelter in Target not once, but twice in the span of a half hour for tornado warnings. Yeah. Not kidding. And to think, all we wanted to do was shop. Silly rabbits.

Still, it's not been bad. Not really, anyway.