A little over 8 months ago, Toby was offered a job in San Francisco. We turned them down because the money wasn’t good enough and we didn’t know if we actually could move all the way across the country in the time allotted. They came back to us with a new offer. We turned it down again. They came back with yet another, and then we had some talking to do.
Basically, I had said if they match XX amount then we’ll do it. At the time I thought, “There is no way that will happen. Therefore, we won’t be moving to San Francisco. Because that’s just crazy.”
Well, it’s no surprise that they did make it worthwhile.
On April 9th of this year, just before Easter, I accepted a job in Washington D.C. working as an Art Director for a very large company there. I went back and forth as to whether this was something I should do – whether it was something I wanted to do. I finally decided to do it. Five days later, we found out we’re moving to the West coast. We found out we were moving to a place neither one of us had ever been before. While that realization was pretty exciting, at the same time, it was unbelievably sad.
But there wasn’t a lot of time for feeling sad. In less than three week’s time we had to have our boxes packed, our moving services scheduled, a new apartment picked out, a route planned a van rented, and a once post-wedding party, now going-away party planned. I was an absolute wreck. I remember thinking, “There is NO FUCKING WAY I will be able to pull this off. And if there is a way I am able to pull all this off, there is no way Toby will want to speak to me when it’s all over.” I hoped for absolute failure and have nowhere to fall from.
Somehow, it all worked out. Our move to the West coast went without too much of a problem. We broke some wine glasses. We spent a lot of money. We took at least three lives from our 9-live sporting kitty cats. But overall, we couldn’t have asked for a smoother move.
It’s a little over six months after we found out we’re moving to San Francisco. In those six months, I have had some ebbs and troughs. That’s for bloody sure. There were the really very bad and downright awful moments where I thought I couldn’t stay here another minute. And reading back on those days I am shocked to have to report that they weren’t even my worst days. My worst days were the days I didn’t write at all. The days where I didn’t feel much like doing anything.
But there were a lot of great moments here as well. I won’t deny that. But I’ll leave that for another post. :]
The thing that I have realized upon my returning here after a 34-day stint on the East coast for work is that it isn’t San Francisco who was having trouble adopting me. It wasn’t the weather or the people, the obscenely large number of crepe places, the hills or the fog I used to blame for my state of mind. It’s not the underground I have searched out and never found. It’s not even the large number of bloody homeless people or the weird hippies who throw fruit into the Pacific Ocean to pay “respect back to the earth”. It’s not the lack of fireflies, or thunderstorms, or seasons. It’s me. (Not that this came as much of surprise.)
Over the past several weeks, Toby and his job have become more and more separated by creative differences. Now, should you dissect the phrase “creative differences” you will soon find an entirely different 400-page post. But I won’t do that. In summary, it’s not working out. It hasn’t been working out for about a month now. And that is all I want to say about that.
So Toby has decided to leave his job. The PHP book deal sped that decision up a bit. He leaves in two week’s time and then the world is wide open again.
It also might not come as much of a surprise to find out that Toby is being entertained by other companies already. Two of which, reside on the East coast, one in NYC, the other in Washington, D.C. Both of these companies wish for him to start nearly immediately, December 1 to be exact.
This has been so much for us to think about, I think I’m still in denial. And every time it enters my head I push it out again and entertain thoughts like, “I think I like Peanut M&Ms better than the regular.” and “I wonder if David Caruso is that serious in real life, too.”
Basically, we’re still not sure what is going to happen. I am in shrug mode.
There have been nights since we arrived here that I begin to doze off and imagine our trip again. We drove coast to coast in less than 5 days. The odd feeling that I haven’t ever gained the words to explain (still haven’t) is that I feel as though the day that we left, someone tied a rubber band to the back of our rented van bumper. They tied one piece to the car, the other to a tree or a house, or a fence or a house’s porch. We left. And all the while this rubber band kept getting longer and longer, stretching behind us like a safety cord, a lifeline, or an anchor. When I’m tired I still feel like it’s there. I know there are people all throughout the Midwest being close lined by this thing. They’re being slingshotted all the way from Kansas down to Texas, like zooming specks of dirt or little pebbles. Imagine going out for milk one night and suddenly you’re in Texas. That’s just not right. I have always thought that eventually we would be forced to let out the rubber band retract before it snaps and we’re no longer attached to anything. And then we may drift.
I’m sure that one day while I’m out walking, the right words will come to me, the description I have always wanted, the one making absolute sense, mathematically through the English language, and suddenly everyone (and myself) will understand
everything and me.