One Year Ago

It was about one year ago that I was sitting in my psychologist's office having a minor panic attack. A couple of weeks earlier, I had gone on a job interview at my alma mater and was waiting to hear back from them about whether or not the job was mine. They had promised to tell me by July 1 so that I could give a month's notice to my current employer before leaving. Now that the moment of notification was upon me, I was completely freaked out. If I got and took the job it meant leaving behind my life of the last seven years. Leaving behind most of my friends. Leaving behind Boston, a city I greatly enjoy. Leaving behind an inconstant lover. Leaving behind a job I hated and an employer that was doing everything it could to gut itself and chase away everyone doing good work. Leaving behind the safe and familiar, which is comfortable no matter how much of your soul it sucks.

And so, the visit to Dr. Sid. Who I adore and whose advice I do miss. And after pouring out my heart, my fears, my what ifs to him for an hour, he had one simple question for me. Would you be disappointed if you didn't get the job? And the answer was yes.

So, on that Friday a year ago, they called me and offered me the job at a decent if not spectacular salary with assurances of moving help and housing for at least the first year. And I jumped. And i didn't give a month's notice, either. In fact, I gave less than two weeks and they should have been happy I gave that instead of walking out, entirely. By the first week of August, I was here, north of Chicago, working at my new digs.

It has not been easy. I did leave behind my friends. Most have since left for other parts of the world themselves. The few who remain do keep in touch, and those who don't? Well, I guess I can't expect anything else. It did hurt to leave behind the inconstant lover. Even though I knew he had to go eventually. Even if I pretended to myself that he didn't. Leaving him behind has been made even more difficult because I am finding nothing, just nothing, here in Chicago. Not even a friend with benefits. I seem to be attracting only liars, closeted homosexuals, fat chick baiters, etc etc etc. Not-So-Dear-John may have been a liar and a slut, but at least he was never deliberately cruel and we always had a good time....

Still, even as difficult as it has been, life is much better for me now. I am paying off my bills slowly but surely. I enjoy my job most days. I wish I could accomplish more than I have been, but it has been a good experience for me to learn that I am only one person and only a human, at that. I have my own home, something I never good have had in Massachusetts by myself. And, yes, I am fatter than before. But, nearly every day, I wake up wondering excitedly what will happen. Unlike in Massachusetts, where I woke up and asked myself how soon everything was going to implode.