Almost 2 months.
Haven’t written a word that meant anything substantial.
Because I couldn’t.
In these two months, I got the opportunity of a lifetime at a company who’s name you would all know if I told you…which I won’t because their confidentiality rules are strict and I’m not willing to risk it.
This opportunity meant letting my house go into foreclosure, moving my family to the North Bay, leaving my job of 5 years and the women there, who I love as though they were family, moving away from my husband’s family, my garden, finding a place to live that allows chickens, cats and kids, and changing…well, everything.
This has been financially challenging, emotionally challenging and just really fucking hard.
I think we did the right thing.
My husband is amazing and supportive. My kids will be happy and in better schools.
I am incredibly blessed to have the chance to work for this amazing company and be mentored by a woman who is wickedly smart and talented.
But most days I still feel like throwing up in the morning from the nerves of going to a place where I have no friends and no confidants. I long for the day when an evening at home doesn’t involve opening a box and piling half of it’s contents to the side for our inevitable garage sale. I miss my friends (I have amazing friends). Some days I wonder what the hell I’m doing. I have a family and if I fuck this up, I’ve dragged them all along with me.
But I won’t fuck this up. I am not a fuck-up. And I don’t even know where these doubting voices are coming from…
Geez…get your shit together, Roy.
Empty but full. The end and the beginning. We are doing it.