December 17, 2014

Scary Times.


So I'm 100% in the throes of considering quitting my job.

  (Sidenote: When Googling "throes" to make sure I was using it correctly in my head, I found the definition "intense or violent pain and struggle, especially accompanying birth, death, or great change." Fitting.)

And it is GUT wrenching.
Gut wrenching because I think I'm going to feel super guilty and somewhat regretful of whichever path I pick. I'm just not sure which I'll feel grosser about.

One option is to quit my job and move to where my husband will be living.  He was just offered a job in November- his first REAL job fresh out of college. He actually got the offer a month before his degree was even official, so that's pretty cool. The thing is, though, that his new job is about three hours away.  When he got the offer, my reaction was a knee-jerk one. "Congratulations, but that super sucks because I can't go until June as I still have 6 months of the school year left." "I can't quit and leave my class because their reading teacher already quit and deserted them before Fall break... how awful if their math teacher does the same at Christmas?"  "I can't leave- what will all those parents say/think about me? Especially the parents that cautiously asked after Fall break, 'Well, are you going to leave us then too?'"

On one hand... man. It would be awesome to say my goodbyes, pack up what I want from my classroom, and spend the remainder of the school year with Vince. I would spend my days walking the dog, going to the gym, and figuring out what crafts I should do and what to make for dinner. A co-worker told me that in the grand scheme, 6 months is just going to be a blip on the radar- would I rather look back and remember the time I got to take an extended vacation and get acclimated to my new town before applying for a new job, or would I rather remember that half of the year where I was frustrated, overwhelmed, and not where I want to be?

To choose my job or choose my husband?

In short, I chose my job.  Like I said- gut wrenching. True, in the grand scheme of things, 6 months is a blip on the radar. My job is temporary, but the things I have left to teach my class will last far longer than that... and I would feel so unfinished if I just picked up and left.

So in the first week post-job-offer, I decided I would just live at our apartment by myself for the remainder of the school year and remember what it was like to live alone and independent. I had declared on a firm Hell-to-the-No about a scenario where I'd let my lease (which is up at the end of February) run out, and then I'd move back in with my parents. Again.

Then we went house shopping. We finally settled on an apartment about 2.5 hours away, with a half hour commute for him to work. We reluctantly came to the realization that it would be SO wasteful for us to be paying similar rent amounts on 2 properties that are just temporary. I decided, with pretty bleak feelings about it, that I'd need to let my lease run out in February and move back home with mom and dad for March-June. (I will add here that I recognize that I'm pretty lucky- I have the option of being welcomed back into my parents' home with open arms- dog and all- for as long as necessary. That doesn't make it sound like the most fun option, though.) My drive to work will be shorter.  No more grocery shopping or cooking. Free dog-sitting.  But man. I moved back home for about 3 years after college looking for a full time teaching job. I feel like I've REALLY done my time there and am really bummed about a situation where I'll be husbandless, stressed out about work, and living back home with mom and dad at 28.

So, currently, I'm stuck. I want the next few months to FLY by, but I also don't want to wish my days away too quickly.  I want to stop living apart from my husband, but I want to enjoy what's left of the school year with my class. I just have to come to terms with the fact that what I WANT is not always the best for the most fulfilling outcome.

Ugh, adulthood.


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