You know how some people love change? They thrive on not knowing what's going to happen next and roll with the punches. Me? I am not one of these people. In the last 8 months, however, I have:
- Quit my job to become business partners with my mother.
- Decided that although I really love my mom, I don't like being her business partner.
- Got a new job, which involved working from home, in our house that we were already busting out of thanks to the fact that it was our 'starter home' that we bought before the real estate market sank, much like the Titanic. So we...
- Listed our house for sale and moved for the first time in seven years. Two weeks before Christmas. Yes, I am that breathtakingly stupid.
- Then I decided that I really hated the new job. It involved way more travel than I initially agreed to and you can only take so much of people that work for you crying at work EVERY. SINGLE. DAY before you want to poke your eye out with a stick. Fundamentally disagreeing with how the company is run by the owners also presents quite a problem. So I...
- Got a new job and quit the sucky one.
That's a very brief synopsis of 8 months that have been one shitstorm after another, gritty details of which I don't care to revisit. Some of it was indeed self-inflicted, but all of it was painful. Things are most definitely looking up and I believe that everything happened exactly how it was supposed to.
We're all settling in to this new version of normal and the scars of the last 8 months have started to turn from fresh bright pink to pearlescent white. Our house? Still for sale. The new(est) job? Pretty awesome, actually. Change is good. I'm going to keep saying that until I believe it. Change is good! Nope, not there yet...
