Negativity

Let's review the scorecard so far. Preggo test: negative. Period: A no-show.

That's fun. Guess I was right that it would take few months for my cycle to get regular after 14 synthetic-hormone years. On the bright side, I had no problem tipping back several beers during this weekend's Final Four festivities and a celebratory trip to a local bar afterward.

It's no surprise my cycle is haywire. In addition to the chemical-free cycle I have embarked upon, I am undergoing immense work stress. Work stress brought on by a mean and horrid and nasty person who shall remain nameless, lest one get fired for blogging about her job. I have learned from those bloggers before me.

I would love to quit my job. But the purchase of the new house precludes it. So I sealed my fate three weeks ago. Foolish woman. I could always look for something else, but what's the point. I'm not sure how long it will take to get pregnant and there's no point in looking for something that would separate me from Josh for four days a week.

So I stew. And cry when it gets really bad. And dream about a career.

It's really unfortunate for me that I do not have one. You see, I have no career aspirations at my current company. I was hired at one level five years ago, and this is about as good as it gets. There are no ways to move up, especially if you do not live in New York, where the home office is located.

Josh keeps telling me to wait until we have a baby, since working at home is perfect for a family. But who knows how long that will take? And is "I wanted to take three months off from my job because it sucks" a good enough reason to have a baby?

But that still leaves me with no career path. And it sucks.

When I graduated from college, I was all "pro-career." I wanted to be a reporter. I got a job, moved around and worked my way up to be a crime reporter -- exactly what I wanted. And then I didn't like it.

So I went into PR, and then back to newspapers as an editor, and then into the web. And somewhere along the way, I lost my way. I became complacent -- happy to just have a job. There was no immediate thought of moving up.

Maybe that's when I sealed my fate.

Now I am scared to try something new, convinced I have no transferable skills. I am scared to stay where I am, convinced I am wasting my talents. I am scared of losing my job, convinced it's the only job out there and that losing it would put us in the poorhouse.

Most of all, I am scared I have lost my chance. I'm 31. It's over. If I was going to make a career, I would have already had to do it. Now I am doomed to a life of toiling away at creatively-drained work.

I wish I knew when I lost that chance, but there is no one moment, no single decision. It's like it snowballed on me and covered the path back. Now, I can't find my way.