You know how when something bad happens to you, like a log falls on your head or you lose your Starbucks card and everyone is like, "it's for the best!" and "something better is just around the corner!" and you're like, um, but what about now? Like, right now, when my husband is out of a job and I can't be responsible for the daggers coming out of my eyes? Well. Sometimes those people are right.
Apparently, I mean, supposedly, if this all works out like it's looking like it's working out and hypothetically reality is real (still a theory!) - look, want I'm trying to say is that there is a high percentage chance that . . . we're moving to California.
We are moving to California.
Did you hear me say that, because I'm still not even sure I am hearing me say that. This feels like back when I was the miscarriage champion and I found out I was pregnant again, for a third time in four months, I didn't even react because like, sure, I'm always "pregnant" aren't I? I didn't believe that until the baby started screaming.
Let me back up. The facts are that my husband has been offered a job. His special little niche means a job search on a national level, so we always knew this might be the plan. He has accepted said job. Beyond that though, who knows what could happen? He doesn't even start until January. We have no place to live. Anything could topple this apple cart from an earthquake to a 2013 zombie apocalypse joke. Remember, three weeks ago I was picking out furniture for our new house down the street. [Awkward chortle] Trust nothing, people. Sleep with your eyes open.
Besides, good things cause great problems, such as:
1. This feels crazy. My whole goal was to create a stable life for my children. I wanted to get into a good school district during preschool so that I could enmesh myself in the scene, then see all my kids through the same school. Dunzo! We planned and saved and made strategic moves and got this house in 2012. Now my oldest daughter is four months into Kindergarten and like, poof, we just saunter 1,000 miles away one day? What happened to dying in District 39?
2. California is a whole new culture. I've been a few times for weddings and trips and once as an 8-year-old at Disney Land, but I don't think scratchy memories of the Dumbo ride count as me knowing what the hell is going on out there as a citizen. What's it like to live on vacation? Does a Tupac hologram jump out to welcome me to the wild, wild west? As soon as I step in the scene, will I hear hoochies screaming?
3. I have to move a family of five in the snow, all on one day. Well. No offense everybody, but at least I get to move away from the snow. On the other upside, I have an oddly large amount of friends in California for someone from the midwest.
4. Speaking of nowhere to live, I also don't have a pediatrician, a dentist, a gym, or a special checker at the grocery store who tells me about his cat named Mick Jagger.
Again, I would just like to repeat that this plan has no guarantee. Then again, what in life carries a promise? Obviously the life I built in Chicago the past 12 years wasn't some immovable force. Things change!
I do carry one hope for the future: That I will spot Michael K from Dlisted at In & Out.
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