I don't know what to do. Should we, in the space of a month, sell our house, move an hour north to a tiny but cute place in Sonoma County? I'm not kidding. My job is going to (maybe) 50%, and John's work is here and there, dribs and drabs. In order to retain that 50% and the (very expensive) health care that comes with it, I will have to commute an extra hour and a quarter. This will only be two days a week, for now, but I don't know how long now will be. And if work expands? How would I deal with a three day commute schedule of that nature?
I'm trying to get other work, of course. I get very positive responses to my resumé.
We could delay the decision, but the pristine little cottage could go. And October is the prime month to sell a house in San Francisco. We have lived in our house almost 21 years.
Any thoughts? My dear sweet friend and manager says not to do anything hasty, and I promised her I wouldn't. But then, I don't know.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Friday, September 11, 2009
A drag
It's always an exercise in some sort of faith to write here. I imagine it's like praying for those who pray, the need to believe that there is something out there. Partly that's the reason I write here so rarely. Also because this was supposed to be a team blog, for the poetry group, and it's so obviously not. So on top of wondering if anyone is actually reading this, I feel guilty that what they (you) are reading is just about me.
But the truth is, I'm pretty scared. My job is being cut back to 50%, even though they love me there. Work comes in dribs and drabs for John. Of course things could change. We're scrambling. I don't want to be one of those sad woe-is-me stories. I want to be a happy ending.
But the truth is, I'm pretty scared. My job is being cut back to 50%, even though they love me there. Work comes in dribs and drabs for John. Of course things could change. We're scrambling. I don't want to be one of those sad woe-is-me stories. I want to be a happy ending.
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