April 15, 2014

Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

Times, they are a-changin'.

Like everyone else, I've had periods of transition or change or difficulty in my life.  But because "easy" would be too boring, I like to stack such transitions one on top of the other until I have a nice Dagwood-style chaos sandwich.
Mmmmm...chaos.  Tasty!

Four years ago, the Spousal Unit left Autozone in Memphis to take a new job in north Georgia at a small start-up company that was doing interesting things in the area of network storage.  The company's founder wanted to hire the Unit enough that he set out to schmooze me and the girlie into acquiescence by flying us down here first class.  He even sent a limo service to pick us up from the airport, which the first time any of us had ever been in one.  And let me tell you, we were GIANT dorks about it, too.  The girlie and I examined and pushed or pulled all the buttons and switches, no doubt annoying the driver just like on every TV show ever, and we poured ourselves glasses of soda to drink on the hour drive just because we COULD.  I was by far the worst, doing the princess wave at passing cars (as though they could even see me behind the tinted windows) and saying stupid things like "I'm in a limo so I'm better than you" or "Pardon me, but do you have any Grey Poupon?" and then giggling wildly.

Sadly yes--I am that person.

Upon arrival to the Garden Hilton downtown, we discovered that we had been given not one but two rooms, each of which had a basket of local goodies waiting for us inside.  They had even taken the time to get student-appropriate goodies for the girlie's basket.  Nice touch, that.  After depositing our luggage, we were showed to a black SUV parked next door that had been rented for us, presumably so we could look like a bunch of Feds while exploring the neighborhood.

The visit went well, obviously, since the Unit ended up taking the job.  And we even behaved less like classless hicks on the way back in the limo ("Driving in limos is sooooo mundane now...")  So much for novelty.

New jobs sound great and exciting and all, but dealing with the resultant moves when they're flanked with a high school graduation and college departure?  Not so much.  The Unit ended up working down here a week or two a month and telecommuting the rest of the time while the girlie finished up her last three months of school.  With graduation behind us, we did a blitzkrieg of house hunting over Memorial Day Weekend, prepped our current house for listing, and moved all of our stuff at the end of July during quite possibly the hottest week of the year.  Three weeks later, we drove the girlie and a minivan full of her possessions north for her first year of college.

The Dudette abides.
In less than three months' time, we bought and sold a house, moved--TWICE, and I found myself in an unfamiliar place with no family or friends anywhere nearby to help me transition.  Needless to say, it was challenging. 

True story.

Pretty much.

Now, four years later, I'm about to do it all over again because at the end of January, the Spousal Unit was laid off from the network storage job.  Yay for unemployment!  (Not.)  So I find myself, once again, with a graduating girlie and about to coordinate two interstate moves simultaneously.  Because it was such fun the first time.  Frankly, I'm starting to feel a bit like a parental stalker or something since moving when my kid changes schools seems to have inexplicably become a "thing" now.

Still, I'm kind of looking forward to the change at this point.  Not the process, of course--that will blow.  But sometimes change is good, and it doesn't hurt that this time my kid won't be leaving home 30 seconds after I move to unfamiliar territory.  Besides, if I'm honest, Georgia and I haven't been the best of pals these last four years.  Between the broken wrist, crushed toe and two hangnail surgeries, never mind being forced to succumb to bifocals, it has become clear that Georgia has been trying to oust me like a bad transplant since I got here.  And that doesn't even count the surprise appendectomy because apparently I can't even get appendicitis like normal people.  I know, I know...you're all shocked.  I guess that's why the South calls Northerners who won't leave "damn Yankees."

Subtle.

Even so, I've made several wonderful friends since I got here and I will miss them all terribly.  I've gotten to travel a bit more and to enjoy a life that does not revolve around my child's school schedule.  But it's time for a change...it's time for the next big adventure.  

It's time for the world to BRING IT.

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