A Whine - Don't say I didn't warn you!

It's cold outside. It snowed last night - just a dusting - enough to make Owen want to pull out the sled but not enough to slide down the hill on.
We just got back from dropping Abram off at the airport; he's bound for the APA conference in Anaheim. Owen cried all the way home (35 minutes) talking about how he missed Daddy and wanted to be with him.
Here I sit in purgatory wondering what great sin we have committed against the universe to need such a cleansin'.
This is that part of the year where our uncertain future comes to look us right in the face. It's been looming over us for, well, a long time and overshadowed my Christmas cheer. Now, here it is staring at us. We KNOW Abram doesn't yet have a job for this fall. We know that we will be moving. But we don't have any clue if he will get a teaching job or if we will be working opposite shifts at one of the Starbucks that are still in business. We don't know where we will be moving or when. I am looking at another year of not having a garden, and we are still delaying TTC (trying to conceive) because with no job (so no insurance) and no place to live, it's just unwise. In fact some days I wonder if we will ever feel ready to take the plunge. It's a lot bigger leap for a family who moves frequently enough that they must plan to raise their children without a supportive group of friends or family around them and whose future is so uncertain.
This time of year I feel particularly ill will toward the decision maker who was more concerned with the contents of his job candidate's panties than his or her mind. We're still reeling from having the rug pulled out from under us two years ago. The job market has gotten even tighter with the poor economy, and I often feel that not only was he cheated out of that job but any job since the jobs seem to have all but dried up over the last two years.
While I'm at it, I'll just mention that I hate living here. I hate living in an apartment - especially this apartment. In addition to getting myself and Owen dressed for the artic weather, I have to make sure to take my keys and pick up my phone any time we want a bit of fresh air - can't just pop out the door for a few minutes. I hate that there is nowhere for Owen to play where we can both relax. He's a runner, so I always have to be on guard at the playground or near our building because he has easy access to the parking lots or roads anywhere we go. I hate lugging the groceries in from the parking lot and chasing a two year old with my hands full. I hate having to buy drinking water and lug it up to our apartment too. I hate that my clothes are still in a set of plastic drawers because I just can't stand to buy another piece of furniture I'm going to have to move. I hate our tiny, dark kitchen that doesn't have enought space to cook or store food or dishes or a window. I hate the crappy dishwasher that doesn't get the dishes clean. I hate that the bedroom is far too large; that space should have been allotted to the kitchen. I hate that the cats can't go outside save brief trips onto the porch; they hate it too. I hate having to lug my laundry out to the hallway to the communal laundry room lorded over by the old witch of the south. I hate that I can only do laundry between certain hours and can't leave a load washing while we head out. Laundry is a twice- or thrice-weekly chore that requires an afternoon of attention trying to remember to go and check on it periodically since I can't hear that it has stopped and needs switching. I hate that I have neighbors who are near enough to *comment* on Owen's exuberance but don't have a single person with whom I feel I could leave Owen for a short time. Since we have moved here a year and a half ago, Owen has been out of my or Abram's care for about half an hour once when I ran to the store to pick up some things for us and a neighbor who didn't drive. She kept Owen and her kids while I ran to the store. They moved away not long afterwards. I hate having to travel 80o miles to visit family. We've made that trip twice by plane and three times by car in the last year and a half. When the winter arrives in full force, even the access to local foods that we enjoy (pretty limited now) just isn't enough to make this place have much appeal.
Some days I seem to manage all the crap okay, but sometimes it just seems like too much. I'd like to say my whine made it all seem a little better, but not today. Maybe tomorrow the outlook will be a bit better.