Nomad no mas
Usually around this time of the year, my world is in flux. I’m trying to figure out where I will both work and live next year, and having uncertainties on those fronts has a way of taking a man’s mind off what he should be focusing on.
This year is, thankfully, different. Unless something extremely unforeseen happens, I will remain at my current employment and unless my house burns down, I will remain at my current residence. I cannot tell you how happy these two things make me.
For starters, it is going to be so sweet to not uproot my entire life and rearrange it for the first summer in a while. Follow this timeline:
2008: Moved to Jackson for the summer to wait tables.
2009: Spent a normal summer, living in Clarksville and drinking until 2 a.m. every night.
2010: Moved to Memphis for internship. Spent first two weeks terrified I was going to be shot at any moment; I’ve since realized I’m just as likely to die in the bat-shit crazy interstate traffic around Nashville.
2011: Moved to Goodlettsville; started working at Lipscomb. Got a puppy, giving me a life to care for that most people have at one point or another dubbed ‘baby practice’. Oh, and I got married and had to start worrying about what someone else thought of my lifestyle.
2012: Moved across Davidson county into our house; started working at Austin Peay.
Since I graduated in May 2010, I have received mail at five residences spanning three counties in two different parts of the state of Tennessee. Bottom line, I’m tired of moving. Next time, instead of packing my shit I’m just going to sell everything with the house and start over. I’m sure my wife will love that idea, since she’s already decided to buy new furniture every few years until we’re dead, broke or dead broke.
The job firmness is even better. For the last two years, this would be about the time I started to actually figure everything out, which usually meant it was time to move on. Maybe now I won’t have to spend all of next fall wasting my time trying to figure out mundane things that have no application to my job. That probably means I’ll just have to invent new ways to screw off, but that’s why I’m paid the big bucks.
(Note to employers: I don’t spend any time screwing off.)
This new-found stability is sweet. No figuring out a new route to a new job, dodging traffic patterns and figuring out where to eat, find a post office or a bank. While new exciting is often underrated, not having the annual destruction of my life should provide happy stability.
Of course, as befitting my meticulous (read: permanently dissatisfied) nature, I’ll probably try to blow it all up next year and resume my nomadic lifestyle. I’m a miserably happy person some days.
(Note to employers: This is not happening.)