When I was working at my last newspaper job I always had the same first thought in the morning: I hate my life. Every morning I would wake up miserable and I’d turn to my boyfriend and say, “I hate my life.” I never had enough money. I was working all the time, commuting 45 minutes both ways and stressing out all the time. I was making my boyfriend miserable and complaining all the time.

After enough months of it, I finally changed things in my life to make me happier. Most of you already know this part, but I’ll put it in here just to clarify: I quit my job and began freelance. I sold my car. I said yes to an opportunity to move to Paris. And I began waking up in the morning and saying how much I loved life.

The last six months I spent in Sacramento were probably the happiest times I’ve ever had.

But for some reason I left it, thinking I’d be just as happy here in Paris. I thought life would be easy. After all, I was going to be getting free rent, a car and 800 euros a month for only 20 hours a week of work. Essentially it’d be an easy year to figure out what I want to do with my life.

Ladies and gentleman, I hate to inform you that it has been NOTHING like that. First off, my boss has cheated me at every corner. Before I came here she told me she wasn’t even sure she would have enough work for me to do and I’d probably have to find a second job to keep me busy. Not true. I work between 45 and 55 hours a week. AND I’m only getting paid 600 euros a month, rather than the 800 I was promised.

My boss is the biggest stress case ever and she makes me more stressed than I’ve ever been in my life. And her 8-year-old is the devil. And for what? This is a shit job that I don’t need. It’s never going to go on my resume. It’s never going to matter. The only reason I haven’t quit is because nobody else will hire me because my boss never got me my work visa like she promised.

When I first got here I was totally miserable, but now I’ve gotten used to the hours and the brat, and even my boss’s constant demands. And actually things have gotten better since the beginning, mainly because I told my boss I would have never come to France if I had know I’d be working in these conditions. Then I said I was going back to America when my visa expired. After that she was really nice, still demanding, but a lot nicer about it. She also promised to cut back my hours and pay me more. That was two and a half months ago.

I’m still working insane hours and still not getting paid more. I brought this up to her right before Xmas vacation and she said she’d like to just give me a bonus before I leave rather than paying me the extra 200 euros a month. She said we’d talk about it. That’s her way of avoiding it.

Anyway, basically what I’m trying to get at with all of this is that I’m back to waking up every morning saying I hate my life.

I hate my life. And I want to change it. But I feel responsible for these kids. I feel like I made a commitment to be here and I should stay.

But at the same time I feel like I don’t owe this family anything. They’ve done nothing to help me while I’ve been here. They’ve done nothing to make my life easier. And most of all, they’ve done nothing to hold up their end of the bargain.

So why am I laying this all on you now? Well, I kind of just needed to work through this because I’m going to have to talk to my boss tomorrow. I’m coming home in May, instead of July like she wants me to. The main reason for this is that American Airlines won’t let me use my ticket after May because I used frequent flyer miles to buy it. But the other reasons are that I hate it here and I need to get home and get settled before school starts.

I told my boss today about the flight situation and she told me that it’s “mandatory” for me to be here in June because her son has his baccalaureate to take at the end of June and she needs someone to help with the younger son. I know the BAC is a big deal in France, but I think four months notice is plenty of time for her to find someone else. Despite me pointing this out, she continued to say it is “mandatory” and that we agreed on me being here for June. (This is only half true. She told me school ended the first week of June, when really it doesn’t end until the first week of July, meaning I’d be stuck here until July 4.)

We had this discussion just before I left today so I had plenty of time to brood about it on my way home. And what I thought was, “Fuck you, nothing is mandatory for me. I can change my plane ticket any time I want to and I can fly right back to where I came from. I don’t have to do anything for you. I don’t need you. You need me. You’ve done nothing for me. You haven’t lived up to your promises, so why should I? What do I owe you? Nothing. Nothing at all. So why don’t you think about that before you start threatening me with ‘mandatory.’ You can say you’ll stop paying me. You can say whatever you want, but the fact remains that I DO have options. I can change my life if I want to. So just tell me one more time why I should stay here two extra months.”

Am I right?

I think I’m right.

So anyway, I have to say all that to my boss tomorrow and I’m a bit scared. She’s super scary for sure. And Tony doesn’t want to leave Paris. I’m sure I’ll still stay until May because she really has no other option than to keep me around, but it may be hellish if I don’t agree to stay the extra two months.

Ugh. I hate my life.