The last couple weeks have been full. Too full. If you didn't know, I'm quitting my job at the end of the month because it's time for a change. I've prepared myself to move to California: downsized my stuff, moved in with the parents, quit my job. Everything was lined up for a perfectly smooth transition.
Except the job. I've been sending resumes, calling friends, networking, and doing everything in my power to get connected in California. So when someone suggested that I apply to a position here in Wisconsin, I was very reluctant to even consider it. But I didn't want to be closed-minded, so I sent an email to the contact. The contact suggested I apply, but I didn't really want to. So I didn't. They asked me to come in for testing without applying. I passed. They asked me to come in for two interviews. I did. (You can see where this is going.) Basically, I didn't apply and I certainly didn't do anything except show up and give an interview, but they called last week and offered a position.
This is where faith vs. logic comes in. I was so sure that I was supposed to move. I want to move. The last five years have been leading up to this moment. I was willing to move to California without a job and start the job search in earnest upon arrival. But logic tells me that when a job falls into your lap, you should pay attention.
It seems a lot to me like The Devil Wears Prada:
"A million girls would kill for that job."
"That's great. I'm just not one of the them."
As my family salivates over the amazing benefits package, I cringe at the thought of another winter in Wisconsin, another summer without the ocean, another place without friends I miss dearly, another job I'm not sure I'll like, and the death of a dream (at least that's what it feels like.)
The glass is half full even though this is bittersweet. I know good will come from it. Who knows why I'm supposed to be in Wisconsin another couple years? Maybe it's my high school girls. Maybe my family. Maybe my church. Maybe to expose the myth of happiness based on location. I always thought I would live overseas in some second or third-world country. I never ever would have believed you if you told me I would be in my twenties and going to the same places I went to in high school.
But as I was talking with a friend about how I need to call the office tomorrow and give my final answer, I said, "I need to call and RSVP that I'll show up." We paused and started laughing. Because life is a little bit like a giant party invitation and the favor of my reply is requested by Monday. I'll be there.
