I’ve written before about how my sense of self-worth was (is still to some extent?) tied to my job. I obtained this knowledge when my career was completely derailed as the mortgage industry took a nose dive in 2007. I went from being a VP with a six figure income to being unemployed for a full year. It wasn’t pretty. I felt like a big loser. A failure. I learned a lot in that year. For instance, that I am still me, and still a person worthy of love, even when I am unemployed. I am not my job. I am not worthy of love only when I am working and bringing in the big bucks. Good lesson.

Since I’ve been employed steadily now for longer than I was unemployed I’ve noticed something else. My self-worth is also tied to how much I earn. I took a huge pay cut out of necessity. The VP jobs were few and far between with hundreds of qualified candidates applying for them. I took several steps back. I’ve made some progress as far as promotions. I am back in management. But I’m not making anywhere near six figures these days.

I was bothered by this for several weeks recently as I came to believe that I’m worth more. And I am. But it took a bit longer to see that the amount of money I make does not define me any more than my job title or even lack of employment does. I am worth a lot more than my paycheck. I was taking on way too much work. Any freelance opportunity that came my way, I accepted. There were a few weeks where I was working 13 hour days since I have a full time job already and had to work on the freelance stuff in the evenings.

The thing is that I’ve already got the job I want. More important to me than the money is the fact that I work from home. I don’t have to fight traffic or be stuck in a cubicle all day. And the main reason I wanted to work from home was to have the extra time to spend with my kids and other things that I want to do. So why the hell was I taking on additional work that took more precious time away from what I really want?

Money. I’m not particularly materialistic. I don’t care about expensive cars, houses, jewelry or “stuff”. I do feel more secure when we have money in the bank and I don’t enjoy having to watch every penny I spend at the grocery store. But when I think of how many people in our country alone are in much worse financial shape than we are, not to mention all the people in other countries living under completely inhumane conditions, well, I feel like a shallow snob. Sadly, it does make me feel better about myself to earn an extra raise, bonus or additional pay from a freelance job. It’s mostly the pride in taking care of things, financially speaking, and the security that comes from having extra money for those unexpected emergencies.

But at what cost? The time I so desperately wanted. I’ve spent it working instead. At the ripe old age of 40 I’ve finally learned that if I want something, I am the only one who can obtain it. Clearly I’m a slow learner. And I am the only one who can sabotage myself too. I got what I wanted. I work from home. I like my job. I make decent money. Spending more time on additional work is taking away from what I want and the money is usually long gone by the time the regret sets in over the fact that I have spent my time doing something other than what I want to with it.

Do what you love and the money will follow, right? Starting today, that’s exactly what I’m doing.

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“I drive around the streets an inch away from weeping, ashamed of my sentimentality and possible love.” — Charles Bukowski

I’ve come to the conclusion that despite my cynicism, sarcasm and general suspicious nature, deep down I’m a sappy, schmoopie optimist. 

I finally saw The Bucket List on cable tonight.  I knew what it was about and how it would end.  I still cried through pretty much the entire movie and was almost inconsolable at the end.  I went completely over the edge by the song “Say” by John Mayer.  I already love that song and hadn’t known it was from this movie. 

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YZ0z86LmXBM]

I read Roger Ebert’s review and don’t disagree with a single word of it.  It still got me.  I would love to be able to say that I’m just in a weird place right now and that’s what caused me to buy into this ridiculous movie so wholeheartedly.  Unfortunately, I can’t say that because I always have been a sucker for even the most obvious and contrived movies, songs and books.  Both the movie and the song are cheesy and clichéd.  I love them both anyway. 

When did I become so excessively sentimental?!  Is it because I’m getting older?  Because I’m a mom?  Am I, emotionally, still a romantic, dramatic teenage girl?  I don’t know the answer, and I am truly embarrassed by it!  It’s silly and ridiculous, but…it’s me.

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