About ten years ago I quit my job at Hollywood Video in preparation for my move from California to Germany.  I was joining my new husband, who had enlisted in the army the previous May and was being stationed in a tiny Bavarian town.  I had worked pretty consistently since about 16 years old, starting at a small discount grocery store; moving up the the quintessential teen job in the fast food business; a brief, but traumatic experience as an operator for a telephone exchange; and finally ending up once again in customer service at the largest video store in town.  It was a great job.  I worked with friends, I knew all the patrons on a first name basis, and I got to rent all the movies for free. I didn't make a ton of money, but I enjoyed working and it didn't really occur to me to NOT work, even though my husband's salary was more than enough.

When I got to Germany I quickly learned that jobs for Americans were hard to come by.  There were only so many available and you really had to know someone to have an "in." Regardless, within three months of arriving in country I was pregnant with our first child.  Between the morning sickness and general elephant-like feeling that pregnancy can leave you with, I was glad I hadn't found a job.  I spent all day cleaning our tiny apartment and hanging out with friends.  Life was good.

When we moved back to the US a couple years later, I was pregnant with our second child and the thought to get a job now that we were back never even crossed my mind.  My daughter wasn't even two years old, I was as big as a house, and I LIKED being a stay-at-home mom.

Years passed, another baby was born, the older kids started elementary school and my littlest started preschool and suddenly I had all this free time again. I started to think about going back to school, finishing the degree I had been working on when I had moved to Europe, or volunteering with the local historical society, or even- *GASP*- getting a job.

In the end, thanks to gymnastics and swimming lessons, the astronomical cost of preschool, and insurmountable amount of jeans that need to be purchased for three active kids, I decided that going back to work would be the best solution.

So.  Here I sit, thirty years old, absolutely no skills, no degree, three kids, a husband who is gone more often than he's home, and I'm feeling lost.  Very lost.  I applied for several jobs.  I got two call backs.  One offer that I unfortunately couldn't take.  And now I'm back at the drawing board because no one seems to want aaaaaaall that shit I have to offer.  Meanwhile, I accepted a full-time spot for my youngest at a great preschool that we can't afford in a weird, middle-class Catch-22.  We can't afford the spot unless I have a job, but I can't get a job without childcare and the spot is available NOW- not whenever I'm offered a job.  So now I'm not only lost, but borderline panicky, too.  Let this be over soon.