Don't get me wrong, I love my in-laws. Corey and I realize how lucky we are that we not only love our respective in-laws, but both sets of parents enjoy each other's company as well. So my mild misery has nothing to do with prolonged proximity to childhood bedrooms.
The melancholy comes from the fact that this time two years ago I was in a similar situation. I was about to move to a city I'd never visited and responsible for finding a job that would house and feed and family of two adults plus two cats.
Between application emails and labored sighs I have two thoughts:
#1: THIS again? I HATE sending the cover letter that says "here's how qualified I am, but I can't interview for another four weeks." A motherly voice would remind me that I signed up for this when I married perpetual student , and I know. All the job rejections in the world wouldn't make me ever regret being with Corey, but it's frustrating none the less.
#2: Shit. All my talk about "starting my career" is Austin is now slapping me in the face. I feel compelled to get a job in a non-profit and fast. There's no outside excuses now for not diving headfirst into my career. For months I've been talking about a career in the arts and now I've really got to figure out how I'm going to get there. In between job searches, I'm researching CFRE courses and MPAff programs. I'd be reading my "Grantwriting for Dummies" if I hadn't packed it in Michigan.
The bottom line is I get SUPER antsy during these holding patterns, but the silver lining is that this should be the last one. Austin is it for us until one of us gets a better job offer elsewhere. Who knows? Corey may be following me next time.
