At work, I can’t get the tools or the target to work right. Neither of these may be my fault, but the fact remains: I can’t do it.
I can’t make enough money to support my family without Stacey working, despite my supposedly great job.
I feel completely ineffectual today. Throw in impotence, and I’d hit the trifecta of traditional male inadequacy.
I guess I kind of understand why guys in dead-end towns wile away the evenings in bars instead of going home and facing their families. Not that I feel the urge to do that – I’m not really the barfly type. But powerlessness is not a pleasant thing to face head-on. It’s not a feeling you can let wash over you and have done with. It sits and stares at you and says nothing, and you know that you are a failure.
Would you ever consider moving? I may have an opportunity for you
depends on where to…
Two main offices, here in columbia and one in fall’s church VA
Ooo! Wrong direction.
Sorry that’s all i can help with. We have positions in other places unfortunately PA isn’t one of them, other places are in VA though 🙂
The neccessity of a dual income family is hardly a reflection of your masculinity in this day and age.
Feeling kinda there myself….
Just had a deal on my house fall thru…
Without going into details, I feel you on this one, big time. I wouldnt’ send Tori back to Australia or move Laurie out–not for a cold second–but bringing them into my life *and* under one roof has created a complexity of emotional and mental demands that I did not anticipate and was not remotely prepared for.
I’ve got gobs of emotions with this one. Care to share?
I’ve got, “Damn you! Running your mouth again about our private lives!”
Then I’ve got, “It hurts me to see you this way. I want to make everything ‘right’ for you.”
And then, I’ve got, “Are you trying to manipulate me into speedily finding another job?”
And then, it’s *guilt*
And further still, “Everything’s going to be okay. Just give it some time and see.”
I know. It’s not “about me,” but you’ve included me and as a result I feel very much a part of the problem. I understand, and I ache alongside you. I don’t know what else to say, there’s really no point to be made in my comment.
I love you.
…and instead of turning up the heat like I’d like to right now, I’m going to slip on some slippers and a robe.
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