First a little background. I’m in my late 30s; my wife is in her early 20s. We got married in late August after dating for several month prior to that. When I met my wife she was a barista who had just gotten out of high school. Though she did very well in high school, as she is very bright, she did not intend at that time to ever go to college, for a variety of reasons it would be otiose to rehearse here. While we were dating she changed her mind and is a college freshman, albeit a year later than normal, which requires me to be the primary breadwinner.
Now I have two jobs: freelance writing, which is the majority of my income but is by definition erratic, and working as a relay operator, which provides our health insurance but is soul-numbing. I don’t mean this as a joke. Over the last several months I have grown to hate the job so much that, if the place is ever fire-bombed, I would be a reasonable suspect. (I’m not threatening TO firebomb my office; I’m just saying that there were a firebombing there; I could entirely understand the police saying, "We should check out that Skald fellow’s albi. He has PLENTY of motive.) I’d love to leave, and if I were single and younger I might. But I’m neither of those things. I need the security of the regular paycheck, and Mrs. Rhymer has a couple of very expensive medications that my benefits pay for. If I quit, we will be very hard-pressed to pay for her meds. (I have a couple of prescriptions too, but they’re generics available at Wal-Mart for a pittance, so I don’t bother using insurance for them.)
Here’s the thing. Mrs. Rhymer has noticed that it’s taking me longer and longer to get out the door each morning, and I’m more and more depressed when I come home each night. She wants me to quit and says that she should can take a semester off to work, if need be, while I get a better job or focus exclusively on writing. I’m opposed to this. I don’t want her losing momentum. She’s brilliant, and she belongs in school, and if I have to sweat it out in the pits of hell for a few more months, well, it won’t kill me.
This bothers her. She feels that I’m treating her as if she were my child, not my wife; that I’m not giving her credit for her ability to contribute to the marriage. She finds it infantalizing, and that’s what we argued about this morning.
Thoughts, anybody?