It has been thunderstorms outside while tornadoes inside.

Let me clarify the title.  First, the roof needs to be "replaced"; second, after the roof is replace, ceiling needs to be fixed; third, the refrigerator is about out; fifth, the carpet has been ripped up and the hardwood floor needs to be sanded, plus waxed; fifth, no money for any of it because I am not working. Who said the economy is turning around?

No jobs to find, unless you are a person with limited skills and education. Employers do not want a person with any of it because then the company must pay for those items. If I "don't tell" on my resume, I have lied, then can be fired; if I "do tell" on my resume, the company sets me aside. I'm seriously thinking about taking a course in medical terminology, or something like that, because those seem to be the most prominent jobs currently. Yes, I am applying for positions with colleges. However, I need cash flow now.

On another alphabetic note, I'm trying to work through my . . . non-passion. While I have told my oldest about how I feel towards her father, I know what I have to do and cannot bring myself to talk to him. I think I am hoping for something to change because I am fearful to lose the known, and, also, because I have nowhere to go if he takes nastily to my words. A part of me wants back what there was, while I know much counseling is needed, counseling he won't attend. Not only counseling, but his willingness to do all in his power to "care" for himself, to want to "get out" and be active the best he can, to not sit in his "cave" with the TV going 24 hours, to have friends--he has no friends! Why did I ignore his words many years ago when he said he would like to be a hermit living in the mountains. He might not have the mountains, but he has become the hermit he wished for. I refuse to ask him to go beyond taking pills for his medical problems, I refuse to mention counseling due to his responses from previous problems in our marriages (which I took counseling for alone), I refuse to become angry with him when he smokes (hampering his emphysema more, and possibly becoming cancerous)--he would laugh at me, make jokes about my anger--and I refuse to have that pain he feeds on to make himself feel "wanted." Since he has enclosed himself, since he has taken the downturn years ago, the words "who are you seeing; who is your boyfriend" has left his lips all too often, and yet, he does nothing to change such a possibility. I do not like this difficult situation: while I am thinking about myself, I am handling the situation delicately, as to not overly upset any of my children. I only wish I had another to talk to that has been here, and how she (even a he) has handled it. My mind keeps playing on "31 years of marriage" and the dream of "until death do we part." Correct me if I am wrong, but we have already parted, haven't we? Isn't death of emotion and being "in" love as much as physical death? I do need to go away for awhile to think this through thoroughly. I feel fake living in my own home.