Going Again?

I have been torn lately.  A few weeks ago I posted about J applying for a promotion in another state, and he decided not to do it.  It was not really an area of the country we were interested in living long term. I was secretly relieved because I wasn't too keen on moving again, especially to a similar town that was only two hours away.  But another job promotion came up, the one he's been waiting for, and he applied.  He has a second interview this week, and it looks like he will be a front runner for the job.  It's 600 miles south of here, and less than an hour from my hometown, where my parents and my sister and her family still live.  J and I vacation down there every year. Although my hometown is actually right on the beach, where we might potentially be moving is inland and somewhat rural.  My hometown, I could hop in the car and be sitting out at the beach in about 15 minutes.  It's how I grew up, and I lived there until I was 30. I've been away from there for 16 years now.

I always knew J, who grew up on a farm near the Smokey Mountains, wanted to retire down there- eventually.  I thought maybe when we were in our 60's.  Not going back down there while I'm still in my 40's.  So I am not thrilled with the idea, and yet it is an opportunity for us both, one that- if he gets a job offer and more importantly if the money is right- I don't know that we can afford to pass this up. Me?  I always wanted to retire to up where he's from, in the mountains, where it's hilly and cool and green and snows.  I never thought I would have to go back and live in the heat and humidity and mosquitos and flat flat flat lands of my home state.  But as much as I dislike my home state, I love J even more, and this is where he wants to be at.  And I want to be wherever he's at.

If they make him an offer, and it's the amount he wants, he is going to accept the position.  It will be like 2008 all over again, where he had to start the new job right away and lived in a furnished apartment the company provided, while I stayed behind and continued to work and pack up the house.  That was for three months, but J was close enough he came home every weekend.  This time, at 600 miles away, he would not be able to do that.  It would mean weeks of separation at a time, lasting several months.  He might be able to fly home once a month or so. There is the half of me that just cringes at the thought of not seeing him day after day, but there is the half of me that tries to be optimistic and thinks that, living alone for awhile would give me more time to devote to exercise, diet, my art, and just being quiet.

J's greatest desire in life, is to see me happy and healthy no matter where we are living, and he knows right now I'm not either.  I said to him, what if we move and I don't find a job right away or, what if I don't want to go back to work as an office slave for 50+ hours a week.  He said he didn't care if I went back to work part time or even not at all, but if I don't work, he says my number one priority is going to be taking care of myself.  He said if I'm not working, he wants me to get healthy both in body and mind.  He wants me to go back to being the old me- going to the gym, walking the neighborhood at night and on the weekends, selling my pottery and paintings online, going back to Weight Watchers meetings, having coffee with friends on Saturday mornings.  He said if we move, I have to promise I won't sit around in the house all day with the shades drawn, falling into a deep depression- which is what happened when we moved here.  And he knows that if not working is the key to me getting healthy, then that is what he wants more than the extra paycheck coming in.

I don't know.  I love that I have a husband who wants what's best for me and is supportive enough to give me the tools and the time to do it.  My ideal life would be not rushing home at night exhausted and throwing slop on the table because it's quick and easy, and spending 8 hours on Saturday doing laundry because I haven't had time to catch up during the work week.  I miss going to Weight Watchers and spinning and yoga, I miss having an organic grocery store and a bakery or coffee shop in my neighborhood, and I do miss taking care of myself and J.  But I also like having a job where I make $50,000 a year for just working in an office, and if I want a new Dooney or a new pair of Uggs, I go get them because I earn my "own" money.

I will have to give all of that up, and that's a nice income.  Yet I know I would have to give that up in order to get to the core of the "real" me and do what I truly want, and what I truly love.  I have all of those external things, a closet filled with them, and I'm no happier than I was at 25 when I worked two jobs just to struggle to pay my basic bills in my little apartment.  J understands that too, and if he gets this job and we move, it might overhaul my entire life for the better. Still, there is a little voice in my head that says, if we move, my life might suck even worse.  And some days that little scared voice is louder than my husband's strong words of encouragement and excitement for the future.  I don't know which one to listen to, and which one is telling me the truth.

MISS GEE