Moving is strange. I’ve done it a few times. No big deal there, but this one signifies so much more than a switch of “home.” I’m most likely changing jobs again. There’s another opportunity that’s come up, and if it works out how I’m dreaming it will, I’d be a fool not to snag it. Money is at the heart of things right now. This is so against everything I’ve ever stood for. It kinda makes me sick. Especially the way everyone seems to think this new desire to earn more has everything to do with me “growing up.” They all smile with great pride, sure I’ll be happy with duckets in the bank. But money has never lead me to happiness.
Yes, paying bills is important. Having cash on hand for emergencies is also a plus. I’ve always just barely made it, or more frequently NOT made it and I’m not sure what my life would be like if there was extra cash on hand. I grew up poor. I remember my mom counting pennies for bread and milk. My parents have tried to teach me the value of money because of this. It didn’t take. I learned to find happiness in other ways. I learned that great friends and things like writing and reading are so much more valuable. I think they’re imagining me settling down, full time job, eager to watch my pennies amass. This is their dream for me-a fat bank account and lots of stuff.
I loathe money. If I ever won the lottery, I’d be that girl giving away hundred dollar bills on the street corner just to watch the looks on peoples faces. I’d adopt a homeless person and buy them a home, give them a chance to start over….maybe change places with them.
I have far too much stuff. Four years ago, everything I owned fit in the backseat and trunk of a car. Now, it seems to have expanded. I’ve always valued my portablity. Packing is making me a bit claustrophobic…weighed down and shaky to say screw it all and take off for another city. Start from scratch.
And I would…but there’s the house I’m moving into (I’m renting my grandparent’s old house with the promise to keep it livable and get it ready to sell when the market gets better) and Babyniece due any day and a new job opportunity. People are depending on me. Weird. Everything is shifting. But everything INSIDE is shifting to. My priorities aren’t the same as they used to be. Getting out isn’t top of my list (though I like to pretend it is).
There’ve been plenty of times that I’ve looked back and thought “Never thought I’d be HERE six months ago!” but never more so than now, and I pretty much KNOW I’m gonna be HERE as in living here, but I seriously have no clue where I’ll be. None. Things are changing at a frightening pace. And they’re doing it by staying the same. It’s like horror novels that are scary because they take something familiar and normal and turn it on its ass. That’s where I’m at right now…that creepy moment where you realize everything is so different from the face value you’ve always taken it at.
The only thing I can promise is that six months from now, I’m gonna look back on this entry and do one of two things. I will laugh, or I will sob.