I’m drained. It’s been one of those weeks. The kind where you’re sort of surprised when you finally see the end of it, but you’re too tired to do much by way of celebration.
I got a new job.
It’s a good one. One that I’m excited about. One that brings in more money, is closer to home, and a whole host of other reasons why it’s so good for me, for my family right now. I know it’s the path I’m meant to go down.
But it means saying goodbye to current co-workers that I like. It means trading an office back in for a cubicle. (Eh, my office doesn’t have windows anyway, right?) It means learning all about a brand new place after spending two years learning about the place I’m finally comfortable at.
That’s ok. Because this is what I’m supposed to do. This job almost came along at the wrong time. A time when I was poised to pass it up. But fate is fate, and it swung back around at just the right moment, and I feel like it’s my game-changer.
I don’t talk about my job much (at all?) on here. I have my reasons for that. And for those reasons, I’m being vague. But my head is spinning. With ideas on how to shine in the new position. With thoughts of how my schedule will change. With numbers crunching in my head and questions like “Can we buy a house sooner?” flashing across my subconscious.
It’s also making me homesick for Ohio.
Isn’t that silly?
It’s just that this job feels permanent. There’s no “but…” with this job. There’s no “I love my job, BUT I have such a long commute” or “It’s a good job, BUT it doesn’t pay very well.” It’s close to home. It pays well. It has amazing benefits for me, for Mike and for my kid(s?) many years into the future. It feels like I have all the reasons in the world to stay there for a good, long time.
It’s the sort of job that I always thought would be the one thing that could finally nudge me back East.
But I found it here. In the state that I’m still in the middle of a love affair with, at 7 years and counting. And so the possibilities of me ever moving back near family… well, those chances are shrinking by the minute. And it makes me excited and sad and peaceful all at the same time.
And being excited and sad and peaceful all at the same time… well, it’s draining.
Then there’s this guy:
And none of this means anything to him. He’s just happy to see me at the end of the day. Happy that I remembered to come pick him up. Excited to try out his new kick-splashing skills in the bathtub. Jonesin’ for some milk.
He centers me. He keeps things in perspective. He reminds me to let go of the logistics, of the details, of the long-term implications. None of it matters.
What matters is afternoons at the park, walks to get ice cream, Friday nights in with Chinese food and the DVR. What matters is this: