I never really thought I would be able to up and "quit" on a steady source of income, a job where I enjoyed my clients, or call myself a true "baseball wifey." (PS: This baseball wifey still draws the line at excessive cleaning, cooking and laundry).
But two weeks ago, after some reflection and culminating factors that included Kyle's current performance, the notice to vacate from our landlord due to her divorce, the falling through of my previously mediated rights to see Adelyn while Kyle was away, the upcoming wedding, new opportunities to work from home and most importantly, the fact that Kyle and I have never spent a summer together, I decided it was time. Kyle had been pushing me for weeks and the thought was over whelming but it began to make sense for us.
I put in my notice at work. My boss seriously banged his head against his desk, and then called me yesterday to tell me that I would have been promoted right now if I had stayed. Oh well. Seriously, oh well. I'm 22 years old and work like there may not be jobs tomorrow. That time has now come to a close. I will be working from home (or a motel next to an away field, or a coffee shop during a home stand, or our gorgeous little house) now, doing web design, marketing and billing for one agency and then research for clients of another. In addition, I'm planning to work at a local non-profit as a temporary caseworker and program instructor, where I'm allowed to turn down any shifts that I don't desire. Why did I not think of this before?!
Before I left, it brought me some comfort knowing that I had options to sustain myself. The reality is, I could do that with out a job right now. But I like to work. I also like to run, watch baseball, do yoga, volunteer at youth support agencies and make wickedly delicious suppers. And now, I can do it all, and be with my fiance.
Last week was my last week with my clients, I spent several days training a new hire to take my position. All the while I was packing our current home into an eight foot by ten foot storage unit. With the help of some friends and a lot of coffee, this task came together seamlessly on Saturday night around 9:30 pm.
The storage unit - even after excessive Shop n Swapping and Good Will runs.
The house before I left, nothing left but two sparkly keys on the counter.
I drove home after deep cleaning the house at 11:00 pm. Meaning I pulled into Gem Meadows at 2:30 am, after being up since 6 am the previous morning. What? I had a run for autism awareness! I don't think I've yet to catch up on sleep. That will come tonight.
My mom drove me to the airport in Spokane on Monday night. In her brand new Cadillac. I can't lie, that was one smooth ride. Maybe she'll want to give it to me when I get home right?! She got us a hotel next to the airport and we settled in for a good night of sleep before my flight this morning at 6:00 am. When we got to the airport, she brought me in and said good bye. I tried not to cry and the excitement on her face helped, but I was tired, stressed and nervous! Plus I also realized that Southwest was not going to do me the pleasure of taking my bags into Burlington, but instead would drop them in St. Louis. Sigh.
After some fantastic customer service with Air Choice One I was finally feeling relieved again. And yes, I'm throwing their name out there because they physically are picking up my bags from the Southwest carousel and then checking them on to their flight that arrives at noon tomorrow for me. Why couldn't I go get my bags myself? Well St Louis has two terminals you see, and I had approximately 35 minutes to get between these two terminals, and board my last puddle jumper into Burlington. They had a private shuttle for me, but it didn't show up until five minutes before my flight was supposed to leave. At this point I had called Kyle, in border line tears, fearing I would be stranded in St. Louis for the night. But the nice man picking me up was the manager of the airline, filling in for a sick shuttle driver, and asked politely that I hold my tears because the plane would not be leaving with out his okay and me safely inside. Now I realize that may be because I accounted for 15% of the passenger load.
Yep, I had a nice chat with our pilots and had first hand experience on how to fly a plane. I'm a pro now! (Just kidding)
When I arrived in Burlington, Kyle's so sweet host mama picked me up, showed me the town and took me out to dinner with her husband. I think I could get used to the thoughtful folks and awkwardly urban developments amidst the impressive amounts of farm acreage. With a population of 25,000 this place reminds me of Pullman and my home town of Prosser, combined. Minus the mountains, Burlington is as flat as they come. Kyle's host mom dropped me off at our home. Which is incredible by the way, brand new appliances, gorgeous kitchen and hard wood floors. It makes me balk at the thought of our old place. Thankfully.
So the adventure begins! Because baseball is a funny thing. It's spontaneous but consistent. It requires hard work every day but comes with ease to us. It keeps us happy at heart, and rich in spirit. Which is really all we need right now.
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