July 23, 2008
Two years ago, my husband, Chris, and I said something had to change. A few months after that, we looked into moving overseas. A few months later, our sweet dog got sick and wasn’t able to travel and we decided California was as good as out of the country. About six months ago, we settled on moving to San Francisco and three weeks ago, we arrived.
After weeks of packing and donating and asking, “How did we end up with so much stuff?” we finished downsizing our large Midwestern apartment, sold a car, stored a car, stuffed a minivan full of necessities and two angry cats, and drove four days from Kansas City to San Francisco, home of the next stage of our lives.
The first thing that happened when we arrived was we broke the ice cream maker. Or, to be more exact, Chris broke the ice cream maker. Unfortunately, he did not do this in the midst of making ice cream as we relaxed in our new place. No, he broke it by opening the back of the van and allowing it to roll into traffic. Good one, honey!
In the past three weeks we have explored our neighborhood, parts of which really smell like pee. We’ve taken way to many trips to Ikea in order to fight with each other, and eventually purchase furniture. And, finally, we’ve finished unpacking and now have a home.
And so we move on to jobs; we need some.
For the past seven years, I had been teaching Middle School Language Arts and was realizing that burn out was fast approaching. Chris, a commercial photographer, was also teaching on a part time basis. In order to make this life change and try one of those “I wish’s” we were always talking about, we lived below our means, saved the majority of our joint income, and then quit our jobs. This enabled us to move to San Francisco and then look for work.
For both of us, this move is all about dreams, but Chris and I each have personal paths we’re taking. Since his 20′s, he has wanted to live in San Francisco; he has also wanted to go to graduate school to do an MFA in photography. So, Chris enrolled in the Academy of Art and is looking for a job doing anything that will pay the rent while he is in school.
For me, this is about trying a new way of life in a place I’ve thought I could really love. That means trading in my car for my legs and the bus, shopping at the farmer’s market instead of the supermarket, and finding a job with a little less stress than what I have been doing, where I won’t feel so worn out everyday, and where I can build some new skills. In other words, I guess I am starting over. Which at 32 sometimes seems out of whack, but also just a little bit exciting.
Now if someone would just respond to my resume.