So here's the deal. I'm moving. RG is moving. Handsome (after a bit of argument and a few ultimatums) is also moving. Duke may or may not be moving. We're all moving. I've been a bit absent from this space because I was having feelings and I wasn't ready to talk about them and so I didn't.
|Please don't ask me how I'll live without my dogwoods and magnolias.|
I shudder to think.
But now, whatever, I just want to throw them all out there to make room. I don't have time for feelings. I don't have room for feelings, because everything I own has to get packed up, because moving.
So here's the long and the short of it. I got a job. THE job. The job that lets me do the parts of professoring that I'm passionate about and doesn't make me do the parts that make me bored and sad and angry and a would-be-baker. The job that is within 2 hours of our family. Closest relative? No longer 645 miles away. Try 97 or 94, depending on which side of the city we live. The job that really does give me summers off and allow me to be a momma, which I love to be. THE job. That job. That's the one I got.
Please don't ask me, though, what everyone asks: "Aren't you just SO EXCITED!?!" I know you mean well, dear person who is excited enough for the both of us. And yes, I did want the job, and yes, I did choose to accept the job, and yes, we are moving forward with that decision because we believe it to be the best choice for our family. But no. I'm not excited yet. It feels like the whole "Surprise! You're pregnant!" thing again, truth be told, except instead of nausea, I have stress, in all different assortments.
Moving-related stress, that regular people feel when changing zip codes by 700 miles. Leaving-related stress, that people who have good friends feel, when forced to leave the said good friends. Snow-related stress, that a Southern Belle such as myself might feel when realizing that THE TOWN YOU ARE MOVING TO HAD SNOW FALLING FROM THE SKY 5 DAYS AGO and I've been to the beach twice. On top of all that, though, we've got two other kinds of stress. We've got PhD-related stress, whereby I must finish my dissertation (that I thought I had 9 more months to do) within the next 3. I think that no matter the deadline, this stress would have always shown its ugly head. That stress drives most of my decisions.
But we also have a breed of stress that I believe is unique to my situation. Its the "I'm a romantic internal processing person but my husband is a pessimistic oral processor and I might do murder to him by accident" stress. Anyone? Anyone else have that? He's still alive, but sometimes, its by a thread, I tell you the truth. Things get ugly here.
So anyhow, now you know. We've got 3 months to finish the PhD, pack, sell a house, buy a house, move, find Handsome a job, and prepare two classes I've never taught before for the fall. It will be good, I know this. We will get to be present for birthdays and all manner of lesser holidays (i.e.- everything besides Christmas) and even games and recitals. We will once again know the four seasons from the land of our birth: Rain, Snow, Rain, Construction (That's what we call "Fall, Winter, Spring, Summer" for you non-Pennsylvanians). We will face this mountain of change and we will go over it or through it or we will blow it up entirely, but however it happens, we will arrive on the other side. In the meantime, please feel free to be excited for us, and eventually (as I did about month of my pregnancy) we will catch up with the events and be excited too.
Love to you all, darlings, I'm off to dissertate.