Thursday, January 29, 2009
In approximately one short month my contract at the smalliest small-town paper will be up. The woman whose shoes I have been filling may or may not return. So, I have one short month to decide whether or not to hang around and hope against hope that she decides to take some more time to be at home with baby, or to seek employment elsewhere and move out of my (beautiful, fabulous) apartment post-haste. Eeshk.
The (sort of) obvious choice is to head to the big city. At least three of my favourite people are living there currently PLUS Boyfriend will be moving there in about a week. I've been saying all year that for my next job, I would like to be either in a more populated area or at least closer to family and/or friends. It's been a fairly lonely existence here, despite a couple of lovely neighbours and co-workers. Moving to the city would theoretically do both.
But bleurghh. Did I ever not have fun the last time I lived there. Granted, I was only there for three months, living in a horrible, noisy, suffocating coffin-in-hell of a dorm room and spending my days fearing the wrath of the higher-ups at the very swish magazine I was interning (unpaid) at. Oh, and I felt lonely there too!
But this time would be better, right?
I just need an apartment I don't dread coming home to and a job that doesn't make me break out in hives. I might even need to learn to drive my car in the city (ew). I also need people to start buying more newspaper and magazine subscriptions so that I can actually do the work I love.
Anyway, my point is, didn't I just do the whole big scary leap of a move/new job thing?
The idea of starting a tiny quinoa farm and living off the grid somewhere is starting to look like less work. Kind of.
(Yes, that is the plane I flew)
Posted by Sarah at 12:27 PM