So why do you want to move across country…?
Now this question can’t be read in your calm reading voice. Read it instead with disdain, sarcasm and shock… because this is how everyone has asked me. I am terribly sorry to break some time-honored tradition moving 3000 miles to chase my dreams. No, I am not forced to go. Yes, my husband specifically looked for a job out THERE. And no, I didn’t know it rained a lot.
And the most frequent statement….
No, we made the wholly conscious decision to move.
So you yourself might be asking that same question. Why?
I feel that before my husband and I had met and gone on this crazy journey together, we had made a promise to ourselves to leave Florida. My husband grew up in a two-light town were the county’s cow population outnumber the people. I grew up in the tourist capital of the world, sick of even the sight of Mickey Mouse. (I know. I worked at Disney. More on that shortly.)
When we met, that was all put to a stop as we had to start making decisions based on both our dreams and not one. Plus tuition and being close to family led to the decision to go to University of Florida.
The idea really came up again when I started my new job, and I felt that the walls were closing in. I had huge panic attacks and entered a full on depressive mode. I felt that there was more to life. I couldn’t sit every day making the rich man richer while he had no care if I got my 3 weeks off or not, that I got to feel the sun on my skin every day, or that seeing my grandmother right before she died was one of the most important decisions that I ever made.
Disney was my first job after graduation, and it was awesome. I was mostly fulfilled working there with the constant changes – at one point I had only been at my desk for a total of 8 hours in a four-month period – and I got to spread the magic of imagination. Sadly, my project hire position was coming to an end and the long hours and constant third shifts were making me sick and my relationship with life horrendous. So after much deliberation it was decided that I would accept a position at the engineering firm that my husband currently worked at.
And that is when it all hit. *Enter brick wall*
It was great at first. I got to work with my husband, got plenty of sleep, and pretended to have a normally sane life. I got up every morning, went to the gym, worked the eight hours, came home, did the required time in front of the TV, and went to bed by 10. Then I would wake up the next day to repeat. Now if this is the type of life that makes you happy, I am in no way putting it down and I am sorry if any of this offends you. But then the excitement ended and realization hit.
I could be doing this the rest of my life…
Ok panic attack and depression; it is your time to shine. *Queue rain and sad music*
I started to see the older people and I pictured my life at their age. I tried to find the meaning in my work. I tried to find something to make this seem fulfilling but all that hit was the constant thought that I could spend the rest of my life clicking at a screen and designing stuff for other people. Where was the innovation? Where were the environmental changes? Where was I making an impact? Where was I using my degree for the better?
Trust me, these 7 months felt like some of the worst days of my life. I started to think, what is the point of life? If all we do is this mundane pattern where do we get to actually experience the point of being ALIVE?
I started to be disgruntled with everyone. My work ethic died with my passion and my home life took a plunge. Countless times my husband caught me crying (this is the worst because he really did try to fix it… darn INTJs). It was time for a change. And it just wasn’t going to happen in the Sunshine capital.
And so we sat down and came up with what would be the fix. After many long discussions and countless sleepless nights of stressing about what could possibly fix this monumental problem we came up with the solution.
Seattle <3