Twelve Long Months

It’s been twelve long (very long) months since I started working full time. Technically, by all accounts, it has flown by pretty quickly. I guess by ‘long’, I meant it has been a rather extended or protracted period. I’m tired of working day in, day out – every day. It’s not my ideal and I certainly didn’t think I would still be working five days a week, one year on.

I neglected to mention it, because I figured there was no point when it couldn’t happen, but I was advised by my boss about seven weeks ago now that I could in fact drop back to four days whenever I wanted to. The harsh reality is, in the current climate of interest rate hike after rate hike (plus the fact we are paying way too much money on mortgages until we get into this house), we just can not afford for me, as the ‘bread winner’, to drop that day.

The ironic thing about all this is I have wanted the four days since the day I *had* to go back to work. I dreamed of working one less day and spending it with my kids. I waited patiently for the opportunity to arise. However, as I waited the interest rates kept rising and kept rising and well…still keep rising so it’s out of our reach at the moment and probably for a good while yet. Just today I got an email saying that our interest rate was going up again by 0.45% - not by the cash rate increase of 0.25% but practically double - thought it worth mentioning that we can’t fix our rate until the land mortgage and construction loan are rolled into one loan which can’t occur until the house is finished – as we wait, it keeps rising!

Since I started back at work (and we purchased our land and started our building journey) the interest rates have gone up five times – each time destroying the tiny bit of hope I had left of being able to work less and spend more time with my kids.

I just feel incredibly pi*sed off at the government, reserve bank, economy - what ever - at the moment. I resent that the cost of living is so high – that petrol, child care and grocery costs in addition to mortgage hikes are precluding me from time with my children.

It sucks. Really it does.

So, no doubt twelve months will turn into 24 months and then 36 months. I don’t see anything changing on the horizon any time soon. That said, I still have my dream of doing photography and hopefully *touch wood* I can live the dream in the not to distant future and get more time with my kids. There will always be a need for my ‘real job’ but maybe the extent of the need will lessen. Who knows?