In early December, I left my job. I interviewed for two positions with the Federal Government, and oddly enough, I was offered them both. One of the positions required a cross-country move to Fallon, Nevada. The other, a more local move to southern Virginia. After weighing the pros and cons of both jobs, Mike and I have decided to stay on the east coast (for now), and I start my new job on Monday. I’ll be a Writer for the Department of the Navy, performing a broad range of writing projects. Today was Mike’s last day with the Sheriff’s department. He’s giving up a career he loves so we can start a new adventure together. He’s a talented and dedicated worker, so I don’t doubt he’ll be able to find something new when we get settled.
While I am excited about a new job with better pay, benefits, and opportunity for growth, I’m struggling with the move. Stress acne is a real thing, y’all. Packing is literally the opposite of fun. I’m fine with downsizing, but sorting through junk drawers and whittling down my clothes has really made me analyze the amount of crap I’ve collected over the years. I’m trying to stick to my guns, and anything that’s gone unused for months in the bottom of a basket or at the back of a closet is getting trashed or donated. We have yet to tackle the shed and I’m losing hair over it.
I know it’s not really that big of a deal but I’ve had to make lists to prevent myself from getting overwhelmed. When I sit down and think about all the small annoying tasks that have yet to be done, that’s when I really start melting down. It’s silly. Worrying about it all. Things will happen.
We started the house hunting process and it’s the worst. The budget. Trying to get pre-approved for a mortgage. Worrying about someone swooping in and stealing a property from underneath us. We’ll be staying with my mom until we are able to close on a house.
But anyway, that is what’s going on. We’re moving.