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Thursday, August 31, 2006

More About The Move That Wasn’t

For those of you who asked, yes, the move is out. Does that mean I am giving up? I don’t think so. I didn’t want to move anyhow. The job aspect was the only thing that made me want to relocate. But you can’t uproot your entire family to a location that blows donkeys because you might have a cool job.

Mr. Lane wanted to relocate to be closer to his dad in Missouri. His idea came with no plan, no secure job and not enough thought. I put in the time and effort of researching job markets and schools because it was something he really wanted. We talked a lot about the move and not moving and decided here is the best place for us all right now.

I can carry on doing freelance work at home. I really liked the idea of working outside of my house again. There’s a lot of freedom in that. Plus there aren’t a million interruptions in any given day. When I’m writing, I get on a roll and don’t want to stop. At home, I have to stop often for house stuff, kid stuff, husband stuff. In an office, I can keep on writing.

It sounds pretty cool to say I run my own business from home, but the truth of it is I can get a lot more done while away from these confines. I always keep an eye out for local writing jobs. There haven’t been any in a really long time. I’ve also applied at local radio stations and it always turns out the same, “Lois, you have a great personality. You carry yourself well. We could really use you… on our sales team.”

Eat me sales team! Just because one has the capabilities to sell Eskimo shit to penguins, does not mean one has the desire to sell. During an interview with a nearby station, I said I would sell ad space if there is a chance for advancement, on-air advancement, and I was denied. I think someone has to die around here before that type of job opens up.

When the move fell through, I had to kick it into high-gear and get the kids enrolled in school, which started a week earlier here than it did in the southern schools. Mentally, I wasn’t ready for my son to go to high school. Who knew I would be such a baby about this situation? He was more than ready, and I wanted to turn him into The Boy in the Bubble and keep him home, safe, with Mommy. Really, I was broken hearted. As we drove up to the huge high school, my eyes welled with tears and I had an empty pit in my stomach. But, he opened his mouth and something teenagerish poured out. I got over that sad feeling pretty quickly, and wanted to kick him out of the car while it was still rolling. Is it wrong?

The girl is in 6th grade, which would mean junior high if she were in a public school. I enrolled her back into St. Peter, Paul and Mary, a pre-K-8th grade Lutheran school. I think she’ll learn more being one of 12 6th graders, rather than one of 700 6th graders. It’s as close to keeping her in a safe bubble as I can get.

It’s harvest season. That means the old man is busier than shit, but at least he is home every night (insert cheesy 70’s porn music here). Moving right before harvest would have meant a huge financial loss too. So, in the end, Dorothy was right, there’s no place like home. Too bad my mom isn’t closer to where we live… I could really use a fresh hot cup of coffee right now.