srsly_you_guys's blog

the day after the last day

My last day at work was fairly uneventful which was mostly how I wanted it. Actually, when I first gave my two weeks' notice, I was really hoping to keep it quiet and avoid the fanfare — my logic being that I don't talk to these people about my personal life normally, so why get into it now? — but about an hour after I told my boss' boss I was leaving he ambled out of his office, stood right in front of my desk and boomed, "SO, ARE YOU MOVING?"

Oh, LORD, I thought, but told him yes, I was heading to California, yes, it was in fact for the Marine, and then another guy in the office overheard and shouted "YOU'RE MOVING TO CALIFORNIA?!" and so my hopes of secretly slinking out of the commonwealth were dashed then and there.

But it wasn't so bad, really. The conversations weren't as cringe-y as I thought they would be. On my last morning I made sure to wear a dress and the patent red leather Mary Jane pumps I know the CEO hates. My favorite office people arranged a farewell lunch for me, where after MUCH deliberation I ordered a beer (I did ask permission from my mother, my father and my grandmother via text; all approved ENTHUSIASTICALLY and so I figured, what the hell, my elders gave it a thumbs up). When I left for the last time, my boss gave me a really awkward hug and my bff carried my stuff to my car and then took me for a very expensive last-day-of-work dinner. I didn't have time to come home and get my tiara, which I like to wear to important restaurant meals (half because it's fun and half because it annoys my bff), but for the most part, it was a pretty perfect last day.

Today, my first official day of unemployment, started out that way. I got my car checked out to make sure it would make the drive to California (my car guy said "you have to remember that you drive a TOYOTA" and I responded "but you have to remember that I HIT THAT DEER") and then I went grocery shopping and to the post office and got a facial, but then I came home and just kind of napped and puttered the day away and now I feel twitchy about that. I don't do well with extended bouts of inactivity; I was reminded today how much I really like having a job and earning a paycheck and having somewhere to go during the day. I know myself, and I expected this, and I have so much to get done in the next week (namely, all of my packing) so I know the days won't all be like this. And once I get to California, if I can't find a full-time job right away, I will find things to fill my days. I will take photos of the desert (I get so excited just thinking about the photos living there!), I will volunteer, I might wait tables or temp.

That part of it is uncertain and a little scary. But I've done this before, and what I have learned from that is that it does work out. It does and it will. I will find a job, and I will find a place, and I will carve out a niche and hang new photos and develop a whole new life.

That is, of course, the entire point. :)

a brand new beginning

For as long as I can remember I have always been a big fan of random milestones. I mark silly dates in my planner and privately celebrate multiple anniversaries that would have no significance to anyone but me. I could tell you the birthdays of my first three boyfriends, my childhood best friend's phone number and what I was wearing when I interviewed for my first job in New York.

So the fact that I didn't realize until right now - 11 p.m. - that today is my two-year anniversary at my current job is probably telling. I'm more focused on tomorrow, which will be my last day there.

I'm leaving this weird, tiny town and my weird, sucky job to move to an equally weird, small town in the desert of southern California. I'm moving to live with my beautiful Marine, who is finally returning home after seven months in Afghanistan. I have known him for 10 years, but in our 10 months of dating we have spent probably a total of a month together.I have nothing figured out, except that I'll be doing some freelance work and undoubtedly wandering around among the cacti with my many many cameras.

I don't feel scared about really any of this. I just feel happy.

I came here, I think, to try to write some large dramatic entry about the night before my last day, or maybe the last day itself but I can't muster any drama for any of it because I don't feel any. I feel a little nostalgic, the way you get when you're leaving any place, even a place you hate, but mostly I feel calm and then like I should be feeling more, you know, MOMENTOUS. But, meh. I feel momentous about a lot of things, like that moment when I'll run into his arms again and a lot of times about my shoes, so I think maybe I have enough MOMENTOUS in my life most of the time anyway.

It is this:
I was here in this town. And now I will not be. And I think I am totally okay with that.